


Purple Hairclip

by TheLocalSprite



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Yaoi - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Dorms, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Roommates, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-06-28 15:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLocalSprite/pseuds/TheLocalSprite
Summary: This is a cute story about the dorm life of Keith Kogane, and how one other twink is going to give him the emotional ride of an absolute lifetime. This is my first story since my Wattpad was removed, and I've improved quite a bit, so I hope you all enjoy.





	1. Moving Day

It was nearly autumn, classes starting in one day, and Keith had was in his room, packing away necessities in miscellaneous boxes. He had already brought his dressers, a bulletin board of theories, now all that was left were his comforter, clothes and shoes, and his special knife. Lavender orbs scanned over the supplies, a soft thought crossing his mind. 'Am I missing something?' a wonderful question... Ah yes! Hairbrush, toothbrush, q-tips and the bare necessities.

A knock sounded on the door of the closed room, a disturbance to the serene atmosphere of the drowsy day. It was not one to be urgent about, as it was only Shiro, the roommate that shared the house. Housemate, then? Ah, forget it. He was just to check up on Keith, to make sure that everything was in the right order and was going smoothly. He always did worry about his friends, after all. His boyfriend would occasionally joke on how much he should take a break and relax, but that didn't help anybody! So instead, here he was, waiting by Keith's door to check upon him.

From inside the room, there was a bit of fumbling, a soft thud erupting before the door opened. The porcelain pale skin now had a scuff on his upper left cheek, having tripped on one of the many boxes of clothes. He wasn't particular on fashion, bust Shiro's handsome, chocolatey treat of a boyfriend Curtis was quite the stylish guy, and spoiled him with advice on looking nicer and thrifted/clearance clothes that would enhance his wardrobe. "I'm done, just have to tape up one more box." Keith's voice was worn, a little rough, and though it had older tones, it still cracked from time to time. "Please tell me you didn't burn my breakfast this time, I have to spend most of today unpacking, I need energy."

Shiro let loose a low chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as the charming smile he was so known for took place upon his lips. Sure, he wasn't the best at cooking, but that was it- he did his best! "It isn't burnt this time, I promise-" His own voice was one that was richer, older. It commanded respect in certain instances, the voice of a leader. As he spoke, his eyes did a quick scan of the other's face; his attention to detail immeasurable. After all, Shiro did hear some fumbling in the room prior, along with some mumbles which could only be explained as curses. "Be careful, Keith. You walk on the floor using your feet, not your face." He joked, his sense of humor bordering dad jokes.

A furrowed pair of brows slammed over Keith's face, as well as an annoyed grin, of course, Shiro had to make things awkward with his no-good humor. The sheer audacity of the jokes this bara of a man-made was enough to make over a hundred 10-year-old children groan in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sure your food will be incredible... I'll be down in five minutes, okay?"

The taller male nodded, his features oddly calming. He always did radiate this air of protectiveness, something that always put people within his presence at ease. It was probably because of his horrible jokes compared with such a lovely smile. "Don't have too high expectations. Anyways, don't take too long, or it'll get too cold." He poked a bit more humor, but only to lessen the other male's nerves. After all, classes would begin soon, and he remembered packing... Ah, it would only take so many hours for someone to go mad in a fortress of cardboard boxes. After bidding his goodbyes, he went back downstairs, back to the food that may not be the best, but was packed full of love.

After the monstrous fiend Sir Dads-a-lot was gone, Keith taped the remaining boxes, slid on his shoes and carried one downstairs with him to save at least one trip. The smell of kimchi-jeon and fresh orange juice wafting the room, it was a subtle spice that he very much enjoyed. Shiro was the only Asian "family" the poor boy had, and the tall mail often made sure he got to experience the culture. Japanese and Korean tastes weren't too different, but a quick google search and wow, kimchi pancakes sounded like a FANTASTIC idea.... totally. though, digressing the concept to foreign view, it was one of Keith's favorites and one of the few things Shiro could cook.

Shiro made sure the table was set, everything organized the way he intended it to be. He was no neat-freak, and neither was Curtis, but they did appreciate a nice clean house. Their house wasn't too large, but a quaint size. It wasn't so bad, it made you feel empty inside in its halls, but it wasn't so small that it would crush you. It was perfect, and just what Shiro had wanted. It only became better when Keith came along, being able to really care for a younger brother he never really had. Sometimes the kid did take him on a run for his money, but it was always something they bonded over afterward. It was sweet, and they were a family ever since they all came together. He sat down at the table, waiting patiently to eat once the younger member was here. When he saw that tussled mullet of hair come scurrying down the stairs with a box in his hands, his smile returned. "Took you long enough."

Keith stumbled over, struggling to see over the mass of cardboard. "I was barely even a minute, don't say it like that" The boy snapped back in retort, his mind not really stable with the annoyance of anxiety, and fear plaguing him. "Have you heard anything at all from the Dean about my roommate?" The answer was surely no, nobody knew who they'd have until they were met eye to eye with each other in the room for the first time. Oh, how he fucking hoped whoever it was hadn't touched his things, or stolen the top bunk. the top was furthest from the floor, and any creepy crawly creature would have one hell of a journey to get through before it got to him.

Shiro gave way to the boy's fears, his eyes wrinkling in worry. He motioned the boy over, wanting him to sit down and eat before any of it did actually get cold. He sighed as he did so, leaning back against the hard cedar wood of the chair. "The only information I was able to get was that your roommate was around your age. They didn't have anything else; I'm sorry, Keith." He knew that it would be hard for the said boy to get comfortable around another human being, especially one he never met before. When they found Keith, it was hard enough for them to get close, but thanks to hard work and dedication they made it work. That, and they didn't have opposing personalities. There were a number of things the roommate could do or have that would turn Keith right off and make him want to move out. However, it didn't go without saying that Shiro had tried- multiple times- to reassure him that he would have no problems. Not everyone got a bad roommate, anyways.

The slender Korean still had his worries, and the second the silver utensil touched his fingers he dug in. The poor boy ate like a ravenous animal who had never touched food in his life, and it goes without saying it was binge eating at it's finest. Consumption of the emotions was the enemy here, but knowing Shiro, it wouldn't be long before he was scolded for scarfing down food like a ravenous beast.

"Keith, I understand that you're nervous, but scarfing down food will not make the situation any better." And he reacted as just as expected. That's what happens once you spend too much time around each other... Now that hit a new nerve. He knew they would see less of one another once university hit, but seeing the crumpled cardboard box in the living room only made it more real. It was happening, and the baby bird finally was lifting off on wings of deep red, one of his favorite colors. Shiro eyed the slim yet absolutely ravenous boy every so often when he ate, always meticulously and slowly. It was one of the best ways to eat, and like many other things, Keith didn't like taking his advice on it either. Always resorted to this method of coping, which only led to a stomach ache later along with some regrets.

After the hearty meal was over, and Keith finally being finished sulking, he decided to take whatever courage he could and load up the minivan. They'd be taking the truck, and having his minivan strapped to the back so they didn't have to drive separately, oh no, that would only make the anxiety much more real... It was awful trying to put himself together, but he had to, he couldn't mooch off of Shiro and hunt down murderers like a cryptid his whole life, he had to do something meaningful!..... And that was capturing murderers legally as a forensics lab tech, hopefully, a blood splatter analysis, but anything under that array would do.

Shiro cleaned up the plates with ease, his dad-mode kicking in once again. He didn't scold the boy for not picking up his plate, as anxiety just wafted off of him. It even started to make the atmosphere gloomy, and no amount of dad-jokes could lighten the mood. He gave in to it, realizing that it was better to just help him put what boxes he could into the minivan alongside him. The moment was mostly plagued by silence, the reality of the situation crashing down on top of both of them. Multiple times Shiro tried to open his mouth, say something, anything to lighten the load on his mind. But anything he wanted to utter seemed fruitless. It was inescapable, but also promising. Keith could go off and do wonderful things in his life, and he could finally get some more alone-time with Curtis. They loved the kid, they really did, with all their hearts... But their romantic hearts also yearned for each other respectfully. It would give them some space, while it would give Keith a future. What more could they ask for?

Eventually, they all piled into the van... Off to Atlas University, Yay. It was such a struggle just to get Keith to keep himself calm, that the mere thought of leaving didn't occur. The emo teen was busy brooding in the backseat, Shiro and Curtis silent in the front working out the GPS. Oh, what a splendid few years this will be, yay for the death familiarity and hello to the spike of worries. The road trip was shortlived, however, only a good hour away resided the campus and all its druggy adult glory. There wasn't a single person he could recognize just gazing out, but hopefully, that would change.

Silence followed them throughout their trip, suffocating any forms of conversation. The couple was sad to see him go, and they knew better than to mess with a brooding emo, no matter how much of a good idea it may seem. The campus rose up on the horizon, large and sprawling. It was one of the best colleges in the area, attracting people from all over.

The buildings were large, Keith letting out an audible gulp from his throat; this was no good! However, he felt, he'd just blister through, carefully getting his out of the now parked car, making his way around the back, unhooking his van from the truck. He loved his van and had no care what others thought of it, hopping right in to properly park his baby. Curtis carefully got out and when Keith's shoes finally touched blacktop again, all three men popped the trunk to bring in boxes, of course, leaving one man behind at a time to avoid thievery.

Shiro used his strong dad muscles to heave heavy boxes to the building, placing them wherever Keith had requested them to go. From the looks of it, some other families were doing the same, while others did it the day before. Shiro disliked being too early, instead vouching for doing what they needed to at the perfect timing.  
He gave Keith a little smile, trying to bring some sort of solace to the Korean male.  
"Straighten your back, Keith. You can do this. If you can live with us for years, you can do this."  
It was a lame attempt to make him smile, but an attempt all the same.

A growl left the young boy's throat but he tamed the poison he so badly wanted to spit. Now wasn't the time to act like a woman on her monthly, he had to do something... Box after box they set up the room, he could already see the fact someone else had moved in as well... But whom

His heart fell, his wishes to try and relax the boy were again, fruitless. All he did was continually carry up boxes until there was nothing left to carry. The dorms weren't tiny, but they weren't large either, as expected. Thus it didn't take long to put away belongings and what was needed into the room, adding some of his own personal touches to the room. Whoever had set up before them seemed normal enough, but just had a lot of blue. Then again, Keith had a lot of red.  
Luckily there was nothing out of the ordinary, so Shiro had hopes that he didn't gain a weirdo or even some partier. Well.. if only he had been fully wrong.

The two men left, leaving Keith alone, and god did it fucking suck, his whole world seemed to be crashing down around him, things were not feeling okay at all. He carefully made his bed, laying back on his rightfully claimed top bunk. First come, first served. It was long before he heard hooting and hollering of other teenagers, and it seemed to go on for hours as other new students settled themselves into campus.

The door suddenly opened, the hinges squeaking as it was swung wide open. The laughter followed with it, along with words of farewell and hugs, all made by the perpetrator himself. His voice was loud, even a tad annoying. It dripped confidence, no matter how soft his voice got. A few more laughs were shared until the goodbyes were finalized. No doubt, he was saying goodbye to his family one last time before settling in for the rest of the day.  
The male fully came into few, his skin bronzed and crisp, his eyes as confident as his tone, yet sickly warm. The door shut behind him, and he absentmindedly went down to his bunk, sitting down and flipping out his phone to pass some more time.  
He hadn't even realized there was another person in there with him, not yet.

Keith felt this rise of dread within his body, holding back a sob of distraught. His words dreams were coming to life and this... THING. This excuse for a human, what exactly did he think he was doing? It was a shared dormitory, one room, one kitchen, and one bathroom per dorm, this was simply too much. He got the vibes of a ferocious lion but, waited silently to see just what the predator would do.

A small exhale passed from the Cuban’s his full lips, a smile still present on his face. He felt so cheery, like a ray of sunshine that was both wonderful and horribly annoying at the same time.  
He did nothing big, only flipping through his phone before getting up and looking for his jacket. He was going to just get a drink, nothing overbearing. It was autumn, so like hell, he would go out without his trusty jacket to keep him warm. He turned around, facing the top bunk. Then... their eyes met.

Keith's rare lavender eyes were striking, and highly unusual, staring at Lance like a wild animal's. Of course, the Cuban also had no clue he was even there, and the heavy wave of dread washed over the boy without any remorse. This was it, his college career was officially over. 


	2. Misinterpretation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of racism/ Mental disorders

Lance jumped back, his dark blue eyes shiny with shock. His perfectly-manicured eyebrows nearly lifted off his head as he did so, hands shooting out to steady himself against a desk.   
He was really not expecting anyone to be here, at least not someone that was that quiet. Most of the other college students were mulling around, getting food or drinks to weigh them over until tomorrow morning. Either that or just socializing.. not just sitting up on their bunk not speaking even when their roommate comes into the room. This was his roommate, someone with a mullet that just reeked of edgy emo-ness and pent up feelings.   
His skin crawled being underneath his gaze, although it was quite pretty for what it was. He recollected himself and stood up straight, doing a mock-bow.  
"Uh, didn't see you there! The name's Lance, and you are..?"

The ravenette felt his very blood run cold, how long had it been since he socialized? Oh, yeah... Punching Jame's face in middle school, that sounded just about right. Keith moved himself to sit up, his natural posture so perfect it was enviable. "Keith... Keith Kogane, I'm a forensics major." One of the Cuban’s eyebrows lifted up, surprise shrouding his face. So he was with someone with a shared major! Who would have thought.. that makes so many things easier then! Having an intelligent roommate was a plus in his book, despite the dreary atmosphere and look of things. With his good looks, he could often persuade intelligent people to do things for him, or at least help him. "Well, Keith, I'm a forensics major too! I guess the university joins together people of a similar major."

Keith felt more at ease with the welcoming tone the other had, but he still felt tense at the unknown actions that could take place. He seemed loud, obnoxious, and a little arrogant, but that was no reason to dismiss a possible friendship. Though... being the way he was, the Korean was bound to blow the test of friendship. He wasn't even sure how to continue the conversation, giving a soft nod and a meek "I guess so..." Damnit! He had sounded uninterested, right? No doubt Lance was going to think ill of his struggle to socialize; he'd be bullied again, wouldn't he? Being called a mama's boy for not having a mother, people simulating the sound of a fire truck to make fun of his dead father, or calling him a fag of all things..... No, the sexuality he will definitely keep to himself, that mistake will NEVER be made again.

Lance's cheery expression gave way into something softer, something along the lines of understanding. He knew that this whole college thing took a toll on people, hell, most of his friends were stressed one way or another. But it was left up to him to help, or at least try and console them. His face was as clear as day, twisting when it was in thought while beaming the next. He was an open book, and sometimes a little too open for some- no doubt for the meek male that seated a few feet away. "Ah don't worry so much. You'll get used to all of this."  
His hands fanned across the room, gesturing to the whole of the campus. He was still a tad nervous himself, as the large atmosphere was much more suffocating than that of the small town from which he came from. So as to make himself feel at ease, along with whoever he came into contact, he sent them a beaming smile and maybe even a corny wink.

The Korean slowly climbed his way from the top bunk, those eyes of his seemingly angry or disgruntled, but it was truly just the largest case of resting bitchface the other had ever encountered. In all truth he felt happy, even a little welcome that the other tried to put him at ease, figuring he'd go out and get them lunch as a symbol of friendship. Would that be polite enough? The slender boy shifted as he got on his Doc Martens, making way to the door. "I'm leaving..." He voiced softly, and with that, he was gone out the door.

The delicate nature of Lance was so welcoming; his eyes were steady, cool and serene as the very lullaby of the ocean itself. They held sacred things in their depths, trailing off after the slim figure. Were they emotions? Or perhaps his thoughts, showing plainly in his eyes? While his resting face seemed a little sullen, watered down from his normal glee, it contradicted the bitch-face of the other male. So he was stuck with a total emo mullet-head for a roommate. Well, it's better than what he was expecting. He watched him walk from his bunk to the door, as swift as a feline. Before he knew it, he was actually alone. Or was he? For all he knew there would be another person watching him from the shadows. "Goodbye..?"He said, baffled by the peculiar experience. He shrugged to himself and went on with his business, which was just making sure everything he needed was here, and even checking on his friends.

Keith spent his time out carefully. This new roommate of his seemed nice enough, so he went to one of his favorite restaurants. It was a lovely Mexican place, a small chain only in this state, and the place he had his birthday a year ago. Excellent bonding material. He stopped in, getting a bag of chips and salsa, and two of the to-go chicken pasta with rice. That would make anyone feel happy right? A yummy meal to share a bond over.   
The poor naive boy packed away the Mexican food, putting it in his cooler to maintain the heat best he could, and with that, he was off back to the Campus. The car was parked, cooler pulled out and carried with him. Though before heading inside he stopped at a vending machine, grabbing two cold Sprites. Can't have a bonding meal without opening a cold soda together. So he finally made his way back to the dorm room, opening their door with a still bland look on his face. "Lance?" He spoke the name questionably, hoping he got it right. "I got food. Come eat." The dark-haired boy stepped in with the cooler, placing it down and popping open the lid to reveal a few to-go boxes with Fiesta-Mexicana-#1 on the top of them.

Propped up on his bed by an outrageous number of pillows, he peeked up from his phone. Brushing chestnut strands away from his eyes, a warmth spread throughout his chest. This man who he's only met a little bit ago- got them food? Now he knew it was going to be a good time! His mind ran with ideas and excitement at the kind gesture. If he had a kind, sweet roommate, then the college experience should lessen it's blow, right?   
Well, that was, until he saw the boxes. Now, Lance wasn't the one to flip out over everything, or jump to conclusions.. but the boxes that loomed before him made his blood rush to his ears, his mouth suddenly dry. Was this some sort of.. joke? Or maybe it was just a coincidence...  
But that's what he thought all those other times, too. Ah, yes. This boy had shared experiences of bullying, but not for deceased parents or his flamboyant nature towards both sides of the spectrum. He was bullied for his looks, his race. They would bring him Mexican food and tease him about it. Some even told him to go back to where he came from. He wasn't even Mexican- he was Cuban! They would call him dirty, or slurs that cut the strings in his heart.   
He gave a weak smile, feigning gratitude. He walked up to the boxes, those voices from so long ago, picking right at the edges of his brain. He wanted to throw them away, right then and there.   
"Ah.. thank you..?"  
It was framed as a question as if testing the waters. This was supposed to be a new, clean experience. His family always said college was different, so maybe... Maybe it wasn't what he thought!  
Right..?

Keith set the food out, carefully setting it up on the coffee table he brought, plastic forks already in the respective boxes. He didn't like the questionable thanks, looking to Lance. "I just thought you'd like it." He gave a soft tone, was Lance skeptical of his offering? Was this not normal? Did friends not share their food together like this? It hurt and he didn't wanna know the answer to that question at all. Instead, he carefully pushed over one of the boxes, and set the cold can on the table. He felt nervous... Things weren't going well, he could tell this was all bad, and he hated it with his very soul. What was so bad about eating together? He honestly couldn't understand, then again, Keith didn't know the boy's ethnicity either.

He was just about to reach for the plastic utensils, giving the boy the benefit of the doubt along with the experiences before him at college. But.. those words stopped his hands, his warm heart turning cold. His fingers curled into a fist, and he stood up straight, pushing the food away.   
"Excuse me..?"  
His eyes held a glare that could kill a man, and his back was as straight as could be, maybe to seem bigger than he was. He would not allow for this to happen again, to go down without a fight. He dealt with this enough, he would not go with it any longer. He was one to go with the flow, but even the river got tired of avoiding the rocks that jutted in its path.

"... I'm sorry? If you don't want it I can just save it in the fridge for tomorrow." Oh, how poor Keith was so blissfully unaware of the insinuation he made, his face only flickering with worry. Again, he wasn't much for expression, furrowing his brows in annoyance. "Look, we aren't going to be friends like this, so just eat the food. I'm trying to be nice here!" Ah, there it was, the uncalled for rage he so often expressed without a shock of remorse until hours later. He upset himself and no doubt but upsetting Lance, though couldn't place his finger on how. Those gloved hands tensed, clutching his own fork and box, his stomach churning with the lessened desire to consume, this was no good.

"Trying to be nice? Well, maybe you should have tried harder!"   
He reacted to the building rage, such as dynamite reacts to fire. He stood away from him, and the food. Already his eyes were frantically searching, for his jacket, for his shoes, for anything that he could leave there for. The formerly calm ocean that welled within his eyes was now a sea wracked by storm, waves sloshing frantically around as the squall whipped around. His face was hardened by anger, and so, so much more than that mullet could never understand.   
"Eat your own damn food, Mullet."   
He backed off, already slipping on his shoes and grabbing his phone. He did not want this... This wasn't how it was supposed to be! He was supposed to have a roommate that he could grow close too, create memories with and bond over.  
But instead, he was met with the same words that plagued people's mouths from where he came from. He had enough, his hands shaking from his anger and tears that so easily welled in his eyes. He didn't let one fall, even as he made a b-line for the door.

Those harsh words were so out of place since all Keith really wanted was to provide dinner. How exactly was this bad? He didn't know what he had done, or how he did it, but it had something to do with the food he brought. "Um... Sorry? This is all I can really afford since my new card is frozen." The aggravation raised, of course, Lance was going to be harsh on him, what else would he do? He fucked up again. The appetite was gone, good being shoved in the minifridge Keith bought just for their dorm. 'I was an idiot, no one is going to be my friend, I'm so stupid... I wanna go home'  
The poor boy crawled himself up on the top bunk once more, curling up on his soft sheets which were just Shiro’s hand-me-downs. "Go fuck yourself asshole, don't expect me to buy food for you again." Was his last words before tugging the blanket over his head, taking in the comforting smell of whatever family he had.

His mind, clouded by anger and resentment over those voices of his past, could not handle an ounce of reason. It was shut off, just as it was now shut off to Keith. He had let too many people do this, and he would not allow it to continue. Not in what was supposed to be his beginning, his steps further on his path of life. So, he would fight back. He would fight back and leave. If he still had to deal with this, then he would at least throw a few words back.   
Lance was situated by the door, his hand closing up on the knob. He would just go spend time with his friends, probably even just spend the night there.   
"I didn't even want your shitty food."   
He had heard that excuse so many times, that they were trying to be nice, that they just assumed that he would like it due to the color of his skin. He would show, once and for all that he was not just some man to mess with.   
And with that, he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

Oh, how that night dragged on, the stability of that room ruined. Keith was balled up under his sheets and Lance was off and about doing as he pleased, neither happy with each other. They spent that long night apart, without the comforts of a good night's sleep. Our lovely Korean couldn't bear it any longer, and around midnight he dialed up for Shiro, one missed call... Two missed calls... Three, four- on the fourth it clicked as someone picked up. Before any 'Hello!' was granted, the poor dark haired teen groaned with dismay. "I-I fucked up! I fucked up so bad. All I did was buy him food and he just stormed out!" It was a sobbing tone, Keith on the verge of tears. "I told you, I told you I couldn't do it! He hates me and I only saw him for like, ten minutes!"

Moonlight streamed over the sheets, illuminating the dark beside the imprudent glow of a phone, groggily pressed against his ear. Arms were wrapped around his waist, tying him to another body. He blinked, incessant noise blaring out at him. Streams upon streams of pent up nonsense blurred out to him, and the familiarity of the voice snapped him out of the groggy state.   
"Keith.."  
He tried first, to calm down the boy on the other line. However, his voice didn't go through, and it didn't go through until he literally yelled into the phone. Luckily, Curtis did not even shift a muscle.   
"Keith! Slow down, what happened?" The rambling did alarm him, as already his advice and support were needed, and the college year didn't even start yet! Even worse, he wasn't even sleeping when he was supposed to, to actually start off his first day.   
He shrugged off Curtis as carefully as he could before stepping out into the hall. He had a feeling this was going to take a bit, along with some extra consolation.

Keith's voice called through the line with a weak whimper. "He was so noisy and blasted out in the hallways for like an hour! Then when he came in he didn't even notice me, And when he finally did it was nice, he was nice, even kinda cute I guess, but then I went to get food! I came back, I bought soda and sat everything out and he just suddenly seemed so wary of me, and when I said I thought he'd like to eat it with me he got mad and stormed off, calling my food shitty! He hasn't come back yet, I really really think I messed up, I don't know what I did wrong..."

Shiro rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as his tired brain scurried to put all the pieces together. He was quite the smart man, his intelligence ranging him an important asset towards his line of work, which allowed him to get this house in the first place with his lover.   
"So, this is your roommate, correct? Did you say anything that could have offended him, or alluded to anything?"  
He could see a miscommunication from a mile away, always with Keith. It was no secret the Korean was pretty shitty at socializing, saying something wrong or doing something that was deemed offensive. Some would call him insensitive, but Shiro opted for misunderstood. Ah, what an emo boy…

"I just brought home food from that place we had my birthday a while back, and said 'I got food' right? Then he thanks me questionably, and I felt worried y'know? I set out the Sprites and said 'I thought you'd like it' and well... He just got really defensive... He told me that he didn't want my shitty food and stormed off." The poor boy gave a soft whine, not wanting to cry. He couldn't, not over this, he just wanted to make friends so badly it hurt. "Do you think someone told him about me? Maybe he hates Asians?"

The desperation transmitted through the phone, curling around his heart and squeezing it tightly. He wanted Keith to get friends just as much as him, so he could partially understand why he was so upset over supposedly fucking up his first shot at a new start. He gave a sigh, his tired shoulders slumping as he heaved himself downstairs, just to get something to drink.   
"If he didn't, he probably wouldn't have been so kind the first time around. And you got Mexican food, correct? It's good food, so I'm not sure why he would get so defensive.."  
An idea popped up in his brain, slim but daunting. He took a water bottle from the fridge and clicked off the lid.   
"Keith.. do you know what nationality he is?"

"No." It was firm, but he didn't seem to waver much either. "He seemed like a good mix of white, black, and Spanish. I don't think he was straight-up Mexican, he had a family photo on the window seal, his mom was white, dad seems darker-skinned, probably foreign, and he had a really big family... He's probably really used to people being nice n' stuff... Maybe I presented it weird? Oh, or the bitchface thing you mentioned??" It hurt to admit, but Keith was well aware of how sour he always looked.

"Well, I still believe he would have acted out sooner if it was your resting face."  
Now that was a direct hit towards Keith, as he always seemed to be wearing that sour look. No doubt he showed his roommate it before the food was given. It was often his thinking face as well, but Shiro digressed.  
"So he's probably biracial then. And you said, ‘I thought you'd like it’, right?"  
As he took small sips of his water, the pure substance cleaned the rust gears in his head. Immediately they started turning, throwing up a story of their own.   
"Perhaps he thought you were being racist, as horrible as that does sound. It could easily be twisted that way."  
He made the suggestion, the own idea foggy in his brain. It was very far off and not very well developed, very unlike his awakened state, as well as it jumped to conclusions as well... But it was something.

Keith went immediately defensive, hissing into the phone. "Why in the fuck am I going to be racist! I'm Korean! I'm not some white supremacists, I don't care about that. I literally said it was my favorite..." The poor boy began beating himself up over the accusation, giving a soft whine. 

Curtis stepped out into the Hall with groggy eyes, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist. "Keith? That was sooner than expected...." A yawn left his throat, whiney and soft. He was tired, they both were, but knowing their little sword fighter, he was probably wound uptight. "Tell him to take a hot bath babe, it always calms him down, it's really late, he'll have a bad first day if he stays up any longer."

Warm arms encircled his body, spreading heat in his chest. The loving gesture made his shoulders fall, relaxing against the hard chest. He would often find himself tense, and this matter was no different. However, Curtis was always there to help and calm him down, even though he could be stubborn in his own ways. He turned his head, giving a smile towards his loved one. It was small, and not too noticeable in the dark, but heart-warming nonetheless.   
He nodded, his focus sliding back to the phone. The poor Korean had just stalled his outburst and was free to talk again.  
"I'm not saying you are, you know I don't think that of you. Just maybe he was having a rough day too, and your words insinuated it."   
His words were gentle, grounding. He only followed through with his boyfriend's suggestions, suggesting that he perhaps take a bath to soothe his troubled mind, and even apologize to the boy later if he still felt bad.

"I... I'll apologize if he comes back, Shiro... I didn't mean to, I really didn't." His voice choked up "It's so lonely without you or Kosmo, it's like after my dad died all over again, I hate it so much."   
There it was, the weakness that plagued the boy. His mother was presumed dead, he never knew, and his father died during duty as a firefighter. Shiro came along at a military school for delinquents and was Keith's savior of sorts, and no matter how long it took, cracked his shell. Now they had a family of sorts. Shiro, Curtis and his German Shepherd Kosmo. Adam was once a part but died in battle, but Keith valued him without waver. "I didn't mean to upset him, I don't ever mean to, I hate it so much. Why can't I just be normal Shiro? Why is it so hard?"

The said dog was off in Keith's old room, laying on top of the mattress that remained. The poor pup would occasionally whine and sniff the bed, tail drooping. Kosmo missed Keith just as much, and one would not believe how excited he would get once he would see his beloved owner again.   
A frown tugged at the corners of Shiro's mouth. He even found himself leaning more onto Curtis as if to keep him steady from the waves of sadness wafting off of the phone and hitting him straight in the gut. He always disliked observing Keith like this, sure he could be edgy as all hell sometimes, but he wasn't sad. Not like this.  
His soft voice called through the phone, repeating his name so the bundled-up boy would listen to him through the oncoming tears.   
"I know, Keith, I know. Explain it to him, okay? Just make yourself heard, and make sure your correct point is across. Don't cry, okay? I'm here; we're here. You'll be able to see us again soon enough. You won't be alone in this, alright?"   
His tone took on that of a father's, soothing and manly, so very directory and helpful. It was like a sweet caress to the heart, and it came out when Shiro really, really cared.

Though it was sweet, the notion of tears made him quickly retort. "I'm not crying! I'm not... Please just tell me you're going to register Kosmo as a service Animal tomorrow, I want him in the dorms, I miss him." It ended in a request before Keith hung up, rubbing his tense temples with a sigh. He placed his flip-phone on the bed and climbed down from his bunk into the bathroom. It was cold, the tile floor beneath his feet having no mercy. He ran a nice hot bath, stripping his body down, getting out his razor. He shaved his legs, underarms, groin, and around his tight hole, not one to have pubic hair. Regardless he wouldn't mind it on someone else, just not his own body, and though he was some degree of Asian, his hair wasn't any thinner. Whatever his mother was, it was hairy. He tossed in lavender Epsom salt, swirling his hand over the water so warm and comforting on his sore muscles. Letting it envelop him. His hair spread out over the water before he added in a fancy fruity shampoo to cleanse away the oils and sebum. It felt so fucking good just to have this relaxation, his slender body felt weak, and the god of slumber was taking him over as he ran the conditioner over his ends. After a good scrub on his body and a thorough rinse, he climbed right out, drying off.

He stepped near the mirror, toweling off and drying his hair, and when he finished he waddled into the main room to pull out clothes to wear. He had diligently unpacked somewhere around 9-10pm and chose a baggy old t-shirt and some pajama pants before climbing back into bed, suffocating himself under the familiar scented duvet.

It was early in the morning, two hours before breakfast and the morning classes would begin. Most were sleeping, though some outliers were awake and stiff as a board, adrenaline of the important day bearing upon them. It was not unusual, and Lance was one of them. He had stumbled out of his friend's room, unable to fall back asleep. It was hard enough sleeping on a nearly-full bed, but the fact he was constantly being jostled to the point where he was nearly face-planting on the ground was the line for him. Besides, it took a lot to keep his skin soft and clear, he'd hate to ruin it with dirty flooring.   
He crept back to his dorm room, and right as he was to turn the knob, a twist of hesitation shot through his mind. Maybe he should just.. wait out here? Though surely the other male was still asleep and he could be quiet enough. He would hate to talk to such a bitchy-faced emo this early in the morning, especially one that had to fucking insult him.   
He decided to just get on with it, and with a painful creak and click of the door, he was back inside the dark, silent room. Of course, his next action was to step and trip on a godforsaken shoe.   
Of fucking course.  
He landed with a loud "Oof!", and sat up, rubbing his limbs that were injured in the fall.

Keith groaned groggily, sitting up with a mumbled "Shiro?...." Forgetting where he was for a hot second. He couldn't see a damned thing at all, shifting till he fell the four feet out of bed with a thud and whimper. Oh, God how that one hurt... He cursed under his breath, rubbing his now sore head. "Ugh... What time is it?" Compared to the composure he had yesterday, Keith was laughably clumsy, but no doubt in serious pain from his high fall. His hair was fluffed up, and there was no sense in silence or stealth this time around.

The Cuban jumped back, inadvertently slamming his head into the desk. A yowl of pain ripped itself from his throat and he quickly got up, tired of these shenanigans. He swore, if he hurt himself on more time, he would scream.. for actuality this time.   
"It's time for you to get the hell up and turn on the lights."  
He muttered, though despite clearly targeting Keith with the command, he was closer to the switch, thus turning it one with a small flick. He was still rubbing the back of his head, his face scrunched up in pain from the blotchy light and his recent injuries. Man, what a way to enter...  
There goes his stealth idea.   
But hey, at least the bastard got hurt. He deserves it for what he did earlier, though now he probably had to deal with more nonsense, and he wasn't any better off with his falls.

"Ah... Lance about yesterday."   
Keith stood right up, still a little shaky, and Lance could practically see the knot on the poor boy's head, clearly, he was injured. "I don't really know what you were thinking, but I got us dinner to be nice. Whatever it is you thought, tell me. I'm not the best with social cues alright? I’ll be honest my only friend is my dog." As honest as it was, Keith had his fingers crossed it was enough to make the Cuban relax in his presence again, but instead of genuine understanding, he was met with something else. The Korean wasn't good with sarcasm, in fact, it didn't make much sense to him at all sometimes, unless it came from himself, so hearing Lance's sarcastic words was not clear to him.  
"So that explains why you have a resting bitch-face... Yeah, I'm sure it was just to be nice. That's what they've all said.", he hissed, venom dripping from every vowel he uttered. He just wanted to slip back into his own bed to catch a few more minutes of rest, at least to put himself at ease, but he only made it worse, his back tensing quite elegantly. His mind was still tired, still yearning for the sleep he was stolen for most of the night. He grumbled, walking towards the bottom bunk, but that asshole stood in the way of it.   
Heh, like he would ever believe that. He could throw him every excuse in the book but until he could hear the right words, he wasn't hearing anything, only the ticks of the clock that stole away seconds of previous sleep.

Keith, however, took the aggression a different way, too tired and idiotic to see the acceptance as anything else. 'It worked...' he gave a relieved sigh, stripping from his pajamas right in front of the other, taking a glance to the clock. "Two hours before class, did you want to stop by the cafe? I can pay to make up for last night, I am really sorry." His voice softened, sliding on a pair of black skinny jeans, a red tank top, and a black cropped jacket before tying his hair up with a purple scrunchie. It was a mess that he didn't feel like brushing out at all.

"What are you-"   
He bit his tongue, turning his face towards the wall. Sure, Lance loved showing off and picking up both guys and gals with lines that dripped charisma, but this felt like too much. He wanted to yell at him some more, but he guesses that his words wouldn't get through that thick skull of his. His arms folded over his chest, the muscles in his arms lean. He played quite a few sports and even did dance classes. He was athletic, but not to an overt degree; he wasn't bulky or large, just lean and nimble.   
His narrowed eyes glared daggers at the male, once he was fully dressed, that is. His anger only simmered down when he caught wind of that apology. He was still pissed off and tired, but the growl of his hunger was stronger. He hadn't eaten yesterday, due to the incident, so he tugged his jacket tighter around himself and stepped back, running a hand through his own messy locks. He would have to get back in time to do a bit of his face routine before classes. If he didn't, then he didn't feel ready for anything at all.  
"Fine, but make it quick, Mullet."

Keith gave a gentle nod at the notion, grabbing his wallet and cellphone, which was a small red flip-phone with unlimited talk and text. He was filled with vigor, of course, because Lance had accepted his apology and that was something to celebrate. The boy could now pave the glorious path to friendship, opening the door with a softened gaze. "Come on, if we get there before anyone else I doubt they'll run out of coffee, I could definitely go for iced black coffee right now." It was a small statement but showed the boys sharp bold tastes in flavors upright.

"Huh, black, like your soul."   
The taller male said underneath his breath as he stepped out the door into the hallway. He was not going to hold back, as he was still quite wary of the stranger that insulted him only yesterday, now apologizing and offering to buy him more food. He swore, if he would be brought to a Mexican restaurant and left there he would flip a table and proceed to cry. But for now, he would proceed to follow the long-haired down into the lobby and out the building. He was willing to give him a slight chance, but if he fucked up again, he would drop him. He just wanted to have a good college experience, over the memories that were stolen from him in grade school. The crisp autumn air nipped at his skin, causing him to pull his jacket tighter around himself. Luckily it would get warmer later on in the day, but it was still not exactly his favorite to be cold. He preferred the warmth; it reminded him of home and of the ocean, which he so very loved. He held those sweet memories as he followed the slim boy to the said cafe, his shoulders gradually relaxing from his uptight posture when he realized he wasn't tricked.

Keith stepped up to the main desk with a curious look. The menu the school cafe had was miles longer than the cafes near his house. Though that didn't stop the boy from choosing his beloved iced black coffee, and a small banana nut muffin to munch on while they nourished for the day. After placing his order, his head turned to Lance, ponytail swinging with character. "What do you want? They have a pumpkin latte in season right now if that sounds good."

Now Lance won't lie, he was a basic bitch. Whenever seasoned drinks came around he always bought them with no shame in mind. That and he actually liked yoga pants, they were comfortable and made his ass look great. All anger towards the mullet aside, his eyes sparkled, like the deep ocean underneath rays of burning sunlight. He gave a slight nod, stepping up to order a pumpkin spice latte along with a croissant. Just something that would tie him over until the next meal, that and the lattes were always so wonderfully filling.   
He radiated confidence when he ordered, his tone and body language were awfully comfortable. With just a few kind words and a corny wink, the young cashier was swooning before him. He didn't just do it for himself, but also for them. A simple compliment could make someone's day, and as a child, he knew very well how grateful he was to those little things. Keith was a little mesmerized by the social skills he only wished he actually had, giving a small analyzation to every movement the Cuban made. Though, he snapped right out of his little face in order to pay for their food, taking the brown back and passing Lance his drink... This was going well!   
Of course, it was, it wasn't as if Keith was aware the other boy still hated his guts after all.

Without another moment passing by Mr.Prettyboy gingerly sipped his drink, enjoying the flavors as they danced in his tongue. He was basic, and he'd admit it with pride. He never understood why people, particularly girls, were called such things by just enjoying a particular beverage and/or clothing. They weren't harming anyone, but he guessed that some had to pick on someone for anything, even if it is for their taste in food.   
He slid his mouth off of the straw, his thoughts still rather.. convoluted on how to treat this guy. He was odd, and seemed rather awkward and insulted him yesterday, though he didn't seem to be doing it now, and he did just buy them food... So he filed away Keith Kogane as a "work in progress" in his book of relationships. He was still rather weary and still didn't trust him quite yet. After all, he's had plenty of experiences of a bully getting close to him just to hurt him more. This could be the same thing, so he kept watch of things like a hawk.

They made their way back to the dorms without much of a rush, it was still so early and Keith was eager to tame his rat's nest of hair. it was in a messy fluffed up ponytail, though he didn't mind that at all. the only thing that ever made him want to change to a suitable appearance is he knew that disheveled people didn't often get labeled well, and this was the year for making friends! Oh, and boy was he determined for some hardcore friend making, with dumb nicknames and arm wrestles and friendly knife fights! friendly things!

They passed by a few stored, but something caught blue eyes. It was one of the Claire's department stores, where often little kids went and got jewelry and other dumb little sparkly things. There was one thing in particular, and it made a smirk creep onto the tanned face. Oh, this was going to be good. He reached forward, his hand stopping Keith in front of the store.   
"Hey, I need to get something really quickly, be right back."   
He motioned over to the rather girly store and without another word, bound into it as his life depended on it. Thankfully he brought a few dollars with him, just in case he actually did have to go and buy himself some breakfast. Now it came in handy, all for a little hair clip that was the shade of a vibrant people. It reminded Lance of the asshole's eyes and his stupid mullet. He needed a clip, after all, to get those strands out of his beautiful face. Without another cent of reasoning, he bought it, all in a way of revenge. Sure, it could be convenient, but it was more like a slap in the face for insulting him the other day.   
He walked out and forced the childish hairclip into his hands, a devilish look shading his face.   
"Thought you'd like it."  
He mocked.

Keith stared over the small clip, Such a complimentary violet with an adorable purple heart right in the center? He felt his very heart skip a beat, and his ears and cheeks unmistakably tinged with a rosy pink color, taking the gift with pure joy. This boy gave him something, a useable item that complimented his eye color, and had a heart right on the front! How could this not be a way of flirting? He took it in hand and gave a soft smile, very very different from the moods previously showing on his face. "I don't usually wear bright colors in my hair, but thanks." The ravenette then stashed away his beloved new accessory right into his pocket, walking with his... Friend? back to the dorm.

Lance was speechless all the way back. That was meant to be a joke, a mock! Keith was supposed to get insulted just as he had when the exact same was uttered to him over Mexican food.. but no, they boy fucking blushed and showed clear gratitude towards the "gift"! A sullen look took over his features as he stuffed his hands into his blue jacket. Of course, he was taken seriously, the boy had no social skills and said he didn't know social cues. If he spelled out his intentions instead, it wouldn't have even been funny then, either. He cursed those few dollars he lost to a worthless hair clip that didn't even do it's job.   
So he trudged back home with the boy, sipping away at his drink like a man who had a rough day at work. And truly, it felt rough.

When they finally got back into their room, Keith grabbed his come, taking down his mess of hair to brush it smooth, sliding the hair clip on his left side fringe. It didn't exactly suit his face, but a gift was a gift none-the-less. With a bit of shifting around the room for better lighting, he snapped a photo and sent it to Shiro, writing his details of the lovely, flirty interaction he claimed to have had. Meanwhile, Lance was in the bathroom, tending away to his body like it was some kind of temple. He was talented at giving advice on how to give your body self-care, as well as his skin routine. In no time he felt soft and flexible, even going ahead to stretch out a bit in the bathroom. It was the least he could do to lessen the weight of his failure of a comeback. When he left the edgy male was actually going to put it in his hair, for god's sake! But he had more important things to worry about at the moment, changing into some blue-jeans, a simple black t-shirt, and his jacket pulled over his arms.   
He prepared himself, and went back out into their dorm, fearing what he would see. 

Shiro, on the other hand, was quite pleased to find Keith in a better state of mind. Knowing him, it may not last too long, but perhaps friends or even a partner could aid in his emotional support. Sure, he loved helping him as he was family, but everyone needed someone near their age to talk to, to better understand them than they ever could. After the small ravenette was ready, he set an alarm on his phone to wake him up about 30 minutes before class, moving onto the couch and flopping back with a groan. He planned to get some shut-eye, that is after chugging his coffee and eating his muffin to wait for it all to hit his system and snap him awake when truly needed. He felt content with his situation, maybe things wouldn't be so bad...

Lance walked back into the dorm, this time avoiding any hazard such as a shoe strewn about. He was not going to make a fool of himself a second time, especially after his failed attempt at revenge. He never was good at it. He would always try when he was younger, to get back at his bullies, but it never worked out. He would either have too many conflicting thoughts, or something got in the way of it all. It was always so maddening, especially to realize that bad luck followed him here. He laid down on his bed, taking out his phone to lazily flip through it. He was tired and could take a quick nap, that and it would help with his dark circles, then again, he always had problems with them. Always.

After a good hour and a half passed, the alarm on Keith's phone rang, someone’s vice in a foreign language the Cuban couldn't seem to understand very well as the alarm. They both got up, grabbing their bags, phones, and keys before locking up and leaving for their classes for the day.


	3. Bile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rush of anxiety. This is written in a way to make you feel the anxiety Keith does. See things through his eyes.

Lance took his time, grabbing his bookbag and making sure he had every material he needed before slipping on his tennis shoes to leave. Even in such casual clothing, he looked quite dashing, his features and body type complemented by what he wore. He certainly had more fashion sense than Keith alone, though with the help of Curtis he was more suitable to challenge his style choices. He was almost out the door, looking over at Keith. His eyes still held suspicion, and a bit of embarrassment due to the fact the Korean still had the hair clip holding back some of his strands. Of course, he had to wear it, great. "You ready?" His voice was simple, not too caring, but not too careless either.

Keith pulled out his keys, campus dorms or not, their classes were a good ten minutes away on foot. He was a lot friendlier than before, holding an expression that was almost natural for a human to make. "I can drive us, I don't like to get sweaty before school, I'd rather do that for training later in the day."  
Those dark blue eyes landed on the keys, the owner of them nodding slightly. Lance knew how to drive, sure, but he didn't own a car himself. His family, although large, were putting a lot into him going to this esteemed college. He didn't have the heart to ask for a car, even though knowing them, they would work their asses off to get him that, too. "I guess. Lead the way, Mullet." He didn't trust the boy, and surely, when you don't trust someone you shouldn't get in their car, yet he seemed quite harmless... Well, besides the occasional meltdown. It would be more convenient anyways, relationship aside.

Keith carefully led the other out to the old minivan, one hell of a mom's car if he had ever seen one. The seats had black covers over them, the fabric of the one on the passenger side was covered in almost blue hair. A dark navy dog hair, all over the seat.

The Cuban didn't mind pets, but he did mind when their fur got all over you. He cringed as he slid over onto the seat, fur already collecting over his jacket and jeans. He did not look amused, and especially not happy. If this was what covered the inside of his minivan, then Keith wasn't lying when he said that his only friend was a dog. Even if you had a pet there wouldn't be this much fur lying around. It would be less frequent and offset by the movement of human bodies. Clearly, that was not the case here, not many humans ever came into the car. But, he did not grumble, rather instead he just crossed his arms and buckled in. He'd rather not complain now, for the risk of being thrown out of the car was large, and he was still tired.

Keith started the engine, backing up and striving toward the main campus. "So, in a day or two, my brother is going to be bringing my dog onto campus, he's been trained to my emotions pretty well, and we are trying to get him enlisted soon because he completed the therapy training. His name is Kosmo, a big fluffy German Shepherd. You'll love him." He spoke softly, alluding to whatever issues he seemingly had, but all in all, explained the fur, and lack of emotional comprehension he seemed to display.

Oh, how lovely the car was… Lance looked over the fur, Yep, it was definitely big enough and messy enough to be a big fluffy German Shepherd. And soon it would be all over the dorm room. Just fucking fantastic, now he'd have to pay extra care to clean everything up of doggy hair, not to mention the smell. However, his eyes averted to the driver, who actually had a sort of cute look when he was concentrating on something so much. Well- he would have been cute if it wasn't for that stupid mullet and that hairclip still holding onto his hair. He was sort of amazed it didn't fall out yet, due to how thick Keith's hair seemed to be, and how much the cheap plastic was gripping onto. He supposed if need be, he wouldn't mind the dog. Again, he didn't mind pets, and actually found himself to quite enjoy the company of animals when the world was harsh. Though in such a tight space, he hoped that they could all get along and that it wouldn't be just one big fight for clean space.

The silence, lack of response was something that struck a nerve, the dark-haired boy wasn't sure what to do and the drive was almost over, his hands changing gears as he parked his car. FUCK, absolutely fucking fuck. Friendship was hard, but surely the hair clip meant he wasn't doing too bad right?  
"So, uh... I'm not really sure if what happened last night is smoothed over, but we should probably go shopping letter today. Publix has a good international section if you want to try tteokbokki. It’s like... Rice cake noodles covered in sauce, but if you really hate different cultural foods that much we can just stick to American classics." He paused before shifting. "I talked with my brother last night about what happened, and he said I may have come off as pushy or racist? I wasn't trying to be if that was the issue. I just really like the restaurant, so.... yeah." He felt the nerves rise, god he sucked at this. What if he totally missed the ball and just said something stupid???

That as almost too much information for one day, let alone one morning. Lance’s eyebrows knitted together, his blue eyes frothing over with thought. Food... Yesterday... Keith’s brother... Racism... It all blurred together, his tired mind on the verge of collapsing. Did he just hear any of that, right? Maybe the dog fur was clogging up his ears, this can't be right-  
And yet it was. So very true and correct in each form of that matter. Lance received an apology, another recommendation for food, and an invitation to go out shopping?! This felt ludicrous at this point, and his gears in his head were rusty, slowly mulling over the words as an uneasy silence continued to stretch out between them. Finally, his bright voice shattered the illusion of anxiety and suffocating fur.  
"Why didn't you just say all of this in the first place?"  
It was a genuine question. Sure, he had bullies that would lie to get into his head and break him from the inside out, but never like something to this degree. Maybe he was being truthful, and he still was skeptical.

Keith paused, furrowing his brows. "Because I didn't understand why you were mad, I mean... I didn't think you were Hispanic or anything, but I never get offended when people offer me oriental food. I just don't get why you could have gotten mad at me, Shiro said it might have been the case, but he wasn't sure either." The slender boy huffed, grabbing his bookbag, stepping out of the car. "I'm stupid okay? I'm just some big idiot that needs things spelled out in big bold letters, but I'm not racist, and I'm not a jerk. I'm just a little violent and over-emotional when people upset me. That's it.."

"Well, I'm sorry that I had to deal with actual racists before, geez," Lance replied, grabbing his belongings and stepping out as well, brushing dog fur from his clothes as he did. The sun shone down on the campus, a few sparse clouds lingering in the sky. He had no need to tug his jacket any closer to his slim body as he did in the morning, and with an exhale he closed the car door, backpack slung over his shoulder.   
It did relieve tension to hear those words, even bringing out some amusement to see the boy get so angry over it. The relationship was turned like a switch, now much more elevated in decent status. Perhaps... Perhaps they could become friends, but that would have to wait some more. He still had a few lingering doubts in the corners of his mind, and classes loomed in the distance. It was time to see what the college experience was really about.. and what trouble it could possibly bring him.

Keith followed at his heels, letting his gaze turn to Lance so often he might as well have been staring the whole time. he wasn't sure what to say, his hands gripping tighter on the straps of his bag. "Soooo...Does this mean we are friends?"   
Lance had taken a tour a few days ago of the campus, thus he knew where he was going by the buildings and signs. His hands were still balled up in his jacket pockets, his gaze cast to his surroundings. "Just... Maybe. Let me think about it a bit more."  
It wasn't a lie, at least he didn't believe it to be. He still had to be cautious, wait and observe to see how Keith really was, how he really interacted with people. It would take some thinking and consideration, but he already had a feeling about what his answer would be. Hopefully, he wouldn't be bothered on it, though. He got that the boy was desperate for friends, but he couldn't be rushed, not after that rocky beginning.

They made it to class on time, but sadly enough only one table was left, and the teacher seemed to be pairing students together based on arrival time to get things out of the way. Though for Keith this was an incredible development, his face remaining the same, but turned to lance to see if he felt the same excitement that never showed on his own lips. "We'll be lab partners, Isn't that great?" He voiced softly, taking his seat at the station as a worksheet on decomposition was passed out. It was on the flies' life cycle and determining the body's age by how many cycles of the fly you could see.

Lance glanced around the room, absentmindedly nodding in response. All of his friends were absent in the class, so it wouldn't have exactly mattered if they were partnered up. He didn't have a choice anyway, but it saved him from feeling disappointed. The Cuban was quite social, apparent from his earlier interactions with the cashier. He had a way with words and body language, molding himself into whatever archetype the situation seemed fit. Though more often than not, he was always himself, mostly... He placed down his backpack right by the chair, taking out a pencil and whatever he might need. Already the paper stared up at him, but he was fully prepared to take on whatever he needed to get through this.   
"Yeah, it's good. At least we sort of know each other." He didn't sound as excited as the other, probably since Keith was just excited to be so close to another human being that wasn't family. But Lance’s face betrayed him, for it still glowed in a friendly aura, attracting people like moths to a flame. He seemed rather relieved, being by Keith, although he was still a tad bit weary.

Keith picked through the paper on his own in silence, highlighting clear life stages and the number of weeks each took. He thought logically and slid his now annotated and marked paper over. "I have index cards, if you want to study later I can write them all down for a flashcard session." Another offer, one more helpful, but in truth, Keith just wanted to spend more time with the boy that practically stole his heart with that dumb childish hair clip. It was far more romantic than the other could have guessed, the socially inept Korean finding it as a bold gesture. His nails were painted black and stood off from the white paper and porcelain skin, his knuckles having cutmarks over them, a worn but not alarming look.

Ocean eyes focused in on the paperwork, an uninterested look overtaking his features. Lance was quite intelligent, but he had a rather rough way of doing things that didn't make it seem so. For one, he hated to study. His sister had to force him to sit at a desk and even walk him through the piles of homework to study for one test. He grew to greatly dislike the pungent smell of markers and highlighters, despite them being quite pretty in his eyes. So, the offer uninterested him, though a creeping hope slithered through his chest, one that he wouldn't be able to label until much later on. It would be a great realization of safety, one that he would have never counted for when going into college.  
So, he nodded, going through the papers and highlighting his share of what he deemed necessary. He wasn't going to put all of the burdens on Keith. That was one of the worst things he could do, and one he greatly disliked. He would accept the study session, but only because he wouldn't do any of it on his own. God forbid he did, lest he dies of boredom and misunderstanding. "That sounds fine, maybe we could have a two-person study party."  
Ah, the things his sister would do to have him study. That included snacks and some drinks, all to accompany the horrendous task and memorization and thought-processing.

Keith carefully gave a soft nod. "I find studying easier if it's competitive. After we get groceries, the loser has to cook dinner, how does that sound?" A soft eager notion left his lips, giving way for a little bit of friendly competition, something he and Shiro regularly did to keep each other sharp. "That way it'll be more intense learning, and you'll be willing to remember answers so that we can see who gets a higher score, y'know? I am a little competitive, but I think of it as fun."

The Cuban gave a smirk, his bright nature twisting into something darker, something.. vicious. A challenge? Oh, he's never heard that one before. Even his sister hadn't dared to tap into his competitive behavior. He wasn't openly competitive, either. Only his dearest friends knew how hard he went once there was a challenge involved. "Sounds fun! Once you find out how good of a cook I am though, you'll probably want me to lose."  
The beaming male was cocky on nearly everything, but only a few talents belonged to him. Both his athletic ability and cooking skills weren't in vain. He held the upper hand in both subjects, and he certainly did over Keith. Nevertheless, he would try his damnedest to win. Maybe he would even have mercy on the kid afterward and cook for him anyways. That's what friends do, right?

Keith shifted, shaking his head. "Thanks to my brother, I had to learn to cook, I'm pretty good myself, but keep in mind I'm taking you to lunch okay? I still feel really bad about last night... If it makes you feel better you can make fun of the fact it's my cultural food." It was the boy’s first form of a joke, or what seemed like it, he really did NOT know how to socialize, but nonetheless, he did his best to grasp the concept of jokes that didn't involve a fatherly twist like some sick mock-up from Dream Daddy. Clearly, Shiro had given him the jokes of a thirty-year-old man with kids.

Those eyebrows shot up, absolutely repulsed by the idea of poking fun at someone's cultural food. The Cuban's family stressed about respect, especially of those of different cultures. The bullies only fortified this mindset as he grew up in life. It could be processed as a joke, but he would rather make fun of his dumb yet fitting hairstyle, that and the stupid heart clip that the boy was head-over-heels in love with. He just shook his head, jotting down a few notes about the flies and their life-span on the paper in front of him. "I'm uh, not going to do that, mullet." He replied, giving the Korean a weary smile. This conversation only further relaxed any lingering suspicions he had on the attitude of the skinny male."You also don't have to keep buying me food. You said sorry, and I doubt you're as much as an ass that I thought you were."

That comment hurt without a doubt, of course, the first impression wasn't great, but the slender boy was only human. "No, but I promised you we could try some the other day." He averted his gaze. No, maybe asking Lance for lunch was too straight forward? He wanted to be a little romantic, but the whole hard to get thing was really hard to get. 

"But I can still pay too, dummy. College can already cost a lot, don't let me mooch off of you too."  
He gazed over at the man, his eyes bright and face beaming. It was his own little joke, but still oddly serious, even for him. He knew how his family was doing, pushing him through college. He just... didn't want to mooch off of someone while doing so, draining them of their personal funds. Then he would be a burden, and then-  
Ah, it was all silly thinking. Lunch wouldn't hurt, and he shouldn't have made it complicated. Lance just didn't want to come off overly dependent. Despite his flirty maneuvers, he was quite the opposite in life. Had to be, in that large family of his.

Keith waved his hand, a solemn look to his once seemingly bitchy face. He choked up but dismissed the Cuban's statement. "It's fine. I have more money than I know what to do with, I haven't had a friend before, so if this is something we can do together I really don't mind."   
Even with that said, it was unclear what that meant. Keith's father was a firefighter, a retired veteran who had incredible hobbies that made plenty of money he'd been saving all his life. Keith's inheritance made him a goldmine for girls or lowlife guys, so it was odd no one was at his hip. He had never gotten close enough to anyone to mention it before.

"Fine then, mullet. At least let me pay you back one of these days, alright?"  
He rolled his eyes before facing the Korean, adding a sultry flair to his voice along with a cheesy wink. However, it was quite effective, despite being bad romcom-ish. The athletic boy had the looks to spear the pick-up line through the target, even with the large possibility of groans and eye-rolls. His overconfidence was ever-flowing, always working in his favor.   
But even so, it was a promise. Lance meant it, and the look that he sent the boy's way afterward fortified that emotion. He wasn't one to just take but give just as much.

Keith melted at the mere wink he received, the voice he just died to swoon over. Lance truly was some sort of masterful flirt, there was no way a normal person was that suave... Of course, that's what Keith thought. He hadn't the slightest clue how tacky or cheesy the other was, that he was just a joke of a man. Then again, that was all anyone could want right? Having someone love you for the things others looked down upon? Keith, oh, he just leaned up on the table with reddening cheeks, trying to hide away the look of romance that plagued his stern features. No weakness... He can't show it just yet, not while Lance was before him, the Cuban currently staring him down like he was analyzing what the slender emo thought.

The corny emotion twisted into one of confusion, and even concern. The shy movements of the Korean spouted mixed signals. Was he.. flustered? Keith wouldn't meet his eyes, even as long as he'd been staring. Lance's eyes frothed over with a question, but his mouth didn't follow. They were in public, and already the Cuban must have embarrassed the mullet enough. Maybe they would speak about this later, during the study party thingie. But it was only a possibility, so the athletic boy slid his changes on the paper over to the other.   
"Do this look correct, Keith?" He asked, his face morphing into one that was rather adorably focused and innocent, in some way. Oh, how that couldn't have been less true

Upon seeing that lovely look Keith couldn't have fallen harder, he was perfect. In every way shape and form, the tall dark-skinned beauty was surely a heartthrob everywhere right? Though he tucked his emotions away, he was not going to show he loved a guy, never again is that mistake going to be made. His stern eyes gazed across the page, analyzing all there was to snoop about. there were a few random bits they didn't really need to know, so Keith crossed them with a pen, but aside from that he supposed the descriptions of how much the body was decomposing helped. "Yeah, it looks good, but I don't think we need to add anything like the clothes the body was wearing since a fly could easily crawl underneath or into their mouth. Though climate and area of the world, type of fly and the decomposition rate are important."

"I guess, but wouldn't clothes help identify the body if possible? It could help in the investigation of the situation." Lance was painfully unaware of the havoc he was raising around the mullet's heart. Even his expression was attractively focused, those thinly-trimmed eyebrows stitched together in some form of thought. He may not be the most intelligent person around, but damn he did pretty well at acting like it. Lapis eyes met amethyst, expectant and waiting. If the attractive Cuban didn't tone it down, Keith would have one hell of a lot of trouble in this class. Even if the boy didn't mean to be so irresistible, he was painfully so.

"Well, to be honest, this is a study of the flies' habits, not the murder itself. Although if we were doing murder, of course, we'd see if the clothes were theirs or if they had any fibers that could help with the discovery " Keith pushing his bangs back, that little hairclip only holding his left side fringe. Lance was so try-hard and adorable, Keith actually had to take a breath to regain his composure as he spouted facts. "When it comes to the fly life cycle we really won't be needing the details on the person's clothes, it's not going to impact a bug study... But it was a nice thought." He tried to congratulate the other for thinking of the big picture, trying to redirect the boy to their work in specific, his fingertips fidgeting about.

That was where Mister Mcclain's less-intelligent mind came into play. The dark-complexioned boy often strayed away from the main focus, his own averted to something not as of much importance. This was apparent by the clothes and the useless information that was now crossed off of the paper. He got information just fine though it was accompanied by a string or two of unimportant text. Lance just focused on so many things at once that it became jumbled in his brain. Luckily, this setback never stopped him from working harder.   
"Oh, okay." His eyes went back down to the sheet, right before they caught a glimpse of that damned hairclip. It was one of the cheap ones, flimsy and barely even able to hold a few strands in place, let along thick bangs for long periods of time. The athlete still was baffled by the innocence of the Korean, and how he doted over a prank gift.

The class went on quite calmly, just the teacher showing videos of the fly life cycle, and a few papers to highlight more text, nothing special. When it was over neither boys had any more classes that day, so it would be fairly easy for a get-together. Would Lance even really like the food he enjoyed? Was he a picky eater or still upset like last time? the thought lingered because, in truth, Lance was an alien to Keith, a whole other species. No hesitation could be found once the bell rang. Flurries of hands collected papers, including Lance's own. He took what was his, and left the group work with Keith. The Cuban wasn't bad with organization, but it was only to be safe. Categorized by the Korean's dorkish behavior and introverted tendencies, the athletic male supposed that he would be prime for carrying the work. It was only to be safe, after all.   
Once all were gathered and slotted away into binders, Lance heaved his backpack onto his shoulder. "So, where to next?"

"I... I don't know." Keith spoke, total loss of confidence. They had bonded over papers and the little clip, right? Dinner wasn't going to cut it anymore, something else had to be done, but it was so very unclear what exactly that thing was. Keith had his right hand in a fist, rubbing his thumb over the knuckle of his index finger, he needed to calm down, too much overthinking wouldn't solve anything. "I think we should just go shopping for the dorm... I could just make us something for lunch, I'm not feeling the best."   
lies. Blatant lies. He couldn't help but cancel the plans as the very thoughts going through his mind of what he should do. His heart said he had a crush, but those never ever went well, and being in a romantic dinner setting just wasn't something his mind could every seem to handle all on its own.

Brilliant blue eyes narrowed in on the sweat-sheened face, almost as if he was looking into Keith's soul, observing the manic chaos that was flooding the other's mind. Despite how open Lance was, he could not crack the wall the other had so messily built up. They were not close enough, even with his apparent flirty gestures and misunderstood gifts. So the boy sighed and nodded in simple understanding. He was a tired student too and got the ins and outs of being nervous. The Cuban used to be the same way when he was younger. Now, this was more of an open mask, but a device to hide nonetheless.  
"I can cook for you too, y'know. If you don't feel well I can help out."  
It was sweet, gentle, maybe even caring! Lance was mostly all of these things, though never so blunt. If only he knew the damage he would cause with such an innocent attitude.

The little offer did help though, knowing one was being cared for is always a sweet topic. Keith carefully grabbed his bag, heading out to the parking lot with hopes to see his beloved mini van. They could go shopping for whatever at this point, the cloudy emotions inside Keith's body telling him that he should let Lance take the lead on social interaction. He had explained his issues earlier, so surely the Cuban would notice his attempts to be polite one way or the other. The keys clicked in those gloved hands, a lovely Mothman cryptid lanyard hanging from it. There was a Babadook keychain, and a small acrylic charm of a sea monster, most likely Nessy. He was a sucker for conspiracies, even just as an aesthetic. Keith unlocked both sides, opening the car door to climb in. "I'm heading to Walmart, and probably see if there are any Asian markets nearby." 

The university was in Destin. A lovely area only a few hours from Tallahassee and Panama City. They had great Asian stores, and shops with international sections. The beach was nearby but not as close as they'd like. Lance lived right up on the shores of Panama City, while Keith lived in one of the lesser-known areas an hour from the school. Their college was about 15 minutes from the shoreline, too far for the Cubans taste, lucky for them that they were still close enough to go swimming, and boy oh boy did that run through Keith's mind. Sexy, hot tanned body, slim and lean, dripping with salt water and sweat~ What a yummy boy!  
-but back to the stores, their city had plenty of options to choose from, and regardless of sexy half-naked Cuban twinks, Walmart and Publix both had decent international sections.

The said tanned boy heaved himself into the passenger seat, slinging his backpack on the floor by his feet. After a few clicks and adjustments, he was ready for this little adventure they were to embark on. His skin fingers delved into his pockets, fingering some loose bills and cards before breathing a sigh of relief and slumping back into the furry chair. He had money on him so finally, the introverted driver could let him buy something for once. It felt nice to be spoiled, but he was taught to always give back in some shape or form. Now that didn't qualify to give his body as a form of payment, but that doesn't mean he hasn't tried. Besides giving bodies and gifts, Lance himself was quite silent. Rather, it was to give the tense Korean some sort of space while accompanying him on the way to the stores. He could taste it in the air, weighing heavily in emo-shrouded thoughts. If only that boy wasn't so hard to read…

Well, whatever. He'll open up eventually to the athlete. They always did, so he wasn't too worried himself. His eyes flicked from the porcelain face to that stupid hairclip then back to his window. He couldn't stare at him too long, lest he would start thinking less than holy thoughts. Nothing too bad, just about everything he thought about when he laid eyes on someone rather attractive. Sadly, the other biracial boy fell into that category. "Anything you want to exactly buy?" It was a dumb way to start a conversation, but he sure as hell had the balls to start speaking. Anything to break the tense silence around them.

Keith paused though, he wasn't ready to talk but he supposed in some way he had to interact if the relationship was to get any deeper. "Uh... Yeah, I had to take a bigger break in therapy so I had time for college, I was told to keep a diary, so I'll get a book. We need basic food like milk, cereal, meat, and maybe a few fruits and vegetables.”  
A bright smile flew onto the other boys dark rosey lips, ideas beaming on his face just as they did in his brain. Lance's twinkling features turned to the rather dull male, excitement blossoming at the edges of his face.  
"You should get gel pens! Well, that is if you don't already for notes. Each color could represent something different, and keep your thoughts organized."  
It was an innocent suggestion, some way to brighten up the book of mental troubles and anguish. If anything, it should be written in thick black letters. It would only do justice for the actual contents. However, it could help in general order of his thoughts, perhaps even benefit him and his therapist in the long run.

There was a gentle stop in motion as Keith processed the proposal, it was sweet and genuinely helpful. He wasn't really one to bother with little details, but his emotions were always a mess, so maybe it would help. "Yeah, that sounds good, but what would each color be used for? Could you make me a color chart to follow?" Of course the young ravenette wasn't going to make his own chart, he didn't know whether to base the colors on emotions, topics, days of the week, or just different entries in general.

"Get the pens and I'll make you a color code. Call it done."   
The blue boy laced his hands together, placing them into his lap as he stared out the windshield with a little smile pressed to his features. Keith had done so much for him already, though it was to make up for that messy situation which only gave him a sour taste in his mouth. He would rather forget that and give the meek male the benefit of the doubt. Still he had to be rather careful, so he wouldn't pour himself into everything he did for the Korean. Not yet, not until they had a real bonding moment. The Cuban would do this for him, and maybe even then some to pay back the extra mullings he was given due to poor social skills. Colored pens should be easy enough to retrieve, and after a bit of driving they arrived at Walmart, Keith hopping out and looked around for a nearby abandoned cart they could retrieve. "Well... I think there should be plenty of options, school did just start after all so it'll be fine. First things first, we need food, so let's focus on that first okay?

Food was a prominent thought in both of the young boy's minds, as sitting in a class for however long was enough to make one famished. As soon as Lance hopped out of the car and the door clicked shut, they descended upon the store like a pair of hungry sharks. Milk, eggs, cereals, and whatever else was needed was grabbed and counted. The absolute bare necessities were gathered, with some exotic additives from both of the boys' cultures. Lance was still dead set on making the other's lunch, based on his mental state. Thus he bought what he needed to make a good lunch, with all insistence on his part.

Soon enough they moved on to non-consumables, Keith grabbing his pack of pens, a small hard-cover, lined red journal, a new dog toy for when Kosmo arrives tomorrow, hand soap, paper towels, dish soap and whatever else a human could need. Though, there wasn't a doubt in Keith's mind they would forget something, however, they paid and left anyways.   
When Keith got back into the car he kept his new diary at his side, knowing exactly what he was going to write about. Lance, oh yes... The handsome boy who his heart throbbed for, so charming but so off fucking limits. He was a roommate, a man, easily upset, and Keith didn't trust anyone knowing about his sexuality more than he trusted Shiro to make a flambe.

Somewhere far off, Shiro sneezed loudly. Rubbing his nose with eyebrows stitched together in confusion, he could only suspect that someone just thought something about him. The large man, however, thought nothing about it. So he went on his way, going through his cycle of work. 

Back towards the old mom van, Lance was happily putting all their new-found food and items into the back of the car. The Cuban would for sure insist on cooking while the Korean would begin to fill up those dainty pages of his diary. It would both give them time to think and reflect during therapeutic practices, which they both greatly needed. Then once the food was served and eaten (hoping approvingly), they could study. That could make Lance groan outwardly just by thinking about it. Of course, studying. At least it'd be more enjoyable than just sitting there, blankly staring at a page for 4 hours. Well, he hoped, that is.   
The extroverted boy jumped into the car, buckling in and readying himself for the awkward and silent journey back to the dorms.

However, contrary to the first ride, Keith put on a playlist from an old MP3 player, and lord have mercy was his music taste the epitome of angst. Linkin Park, Set it off, Get scared, Billie Eilish, Eminem, Panic! at the disco-- though that one was more tasteful to the Cuban than others.It was slightly high, and the bass was raised, it was the kind of car you could hear the booming from as it went down the street. He drove back to the dorms, tapping his finger to whatever rhythm was playing, just trying to ignore the fact he should be talking and socializing at the moment.

Lance felt himself tap to the beat of a few select songs, but they were quite out of his range of what he considered tasteful music. This only made him feel depressed, although uplifted? It was a rather peculiar feeling, feeding off of his past thoughts. It really dug up the old stuff, didn't it? Catching on every word, emotions can catch up to someone easily, and for a person that can be as sensitive as Lance, he didn't feel like talking either. Rather, he chose to drum some of the beats on the door of the car, soft pitter-patter of fingers. The atmosphere stank of emo and repressed emotions. The said Cuban decided to bank on the repercussions that their therapeutic hobbies would bring about, buoying off of hope that he, too, could lighten up to speak.   
He didn't want to put his poor driver on the spot, not with his apparent sullenness on his porcelain features. Food would make them happy again, and he was sure about it. They were just hungry, right?

As soon as they pulled in he jumped out of the van and whisked away with bags of food, all to cook both of them something vibrant to eat. "I'll call you when it's done, you better get writing!"  
It would paint this melancholy picture brighter, so with a few brief words to his mullet-chauffeur, he strode away towards one of his places of comfort- the kitchen. Before Keith could even blink, his new friend was carrying well over half the bags up to the dorm room, far away from him. He felt his chest ache at the thought that Lance might've just wanted to get away, grabbing the last of bags he shut the trunk and made his way into the dormitory. Everything was always so hard, but socializing? Fuck if it didn't steal the show for that catagory. He walked into the dorm room, his lavender orbs gazing upon the other who was now dressed tidily with an apron over the mini-stove provided. It looked domestic, but no! - at bay you homoerotic thoughts, there is no time to deal with you today.

The blue-checkered apron-clad boy frowned at the stove. It was quite small, and far from what he deemed was desirable in cooking a delicious meal. Then again, with sparse supplies and even sparser money to spare, he supposed it was decent enough. The Cuban could get the job done, at least. He barely turned his head when his roommate stalked into the room. Yes, stalked. The other man basically brooded everywhere he went, no matter how happy he may seem when he actually spoke. He flashed the boy a quick smile before turning back to his mini-recipe book he brought from home. Should he make something more international, or maybe cook something Keith would be familiar with? Or even so, make something that was more from his culture? Well, he narrowed it down to a surprise for the other, clicking on the stove and collecting the ingredients from the plastic bags. It was time to cook!

Keith managed to unpack the rest of the items, neatly tucking everything away before his fingers grasped the red leather lined book. He took a nice seat at his desk, gripping the 0.5mm Zebra metal mechanical pencil, getting to work. He wrote a small entry, no more than two paragraphs. The first one was about how he felt about school, nervous, anxiety filled, so much more uncomfortable than the strict no-talking military school he was used to. The second paragraph however, was about lance, how he messed up the first night, those lovely blue eyes that made his heart melt like a candle, and the dumb plastic hair clip that was valued at too high of a price.

While the beautiful and confident man was being drooled over by the other male, he continued his task of slaving away over a stove. After contemplating various dishes, he settled on shrimp tamales. They were just as they sound, wonderfully seasoned shrimp all tied up in a corn-husk shell. So as the husks stewed in water, he began to prepare the shrimp with whatever seasonings he had bought at the store. It wasn't much, but the skilled man could only hope it would do its job. He even heated up a little can of beans, just for some sort of sad-assed side to conjure up the flavor a bit more. It was the best he could do, all on limited space and limited budget. 

An hour or so passed, the sound of sizzling and scribbling the only noise in the room. Lance went to work assembling the tamales, tying them up with deft hands. Finally, they were placed upon a few paper plates, a dollop of beans for the side. Thus, he took them to the table and set them down. In all his cocky glory, eyes watching the smaller male, he leaned against the table.   
"So, how do they taste?" Keith glanced at the food, unsure how he was supposed to eat it. Cornhusk burrito? That's what the masterpiece appeared to be anyways. His gloved finger gently poked over it, clueless as to what it was, of course, he only really ate Japanese, Korean, or hometown American food. Things like tamales, bratwurst, and perogies were clueless to him. "I thought you couldn't eat corn husk- are you still mad at me?" He tilted his head, thinking the food was some sort of prank, and to someone who hadn't had traditional Hispanic food, it probably seemed like one.

'Oh you have to be kidding me!'  
The Cuban nearly facepalmed in response to the question, a shallow look sporting anew on his features. He was disappointed, to say the least. The cook expected a thanks, or anything- but not something as idiotic as that. And just the way the Korean poked at his food, like it was some alien..! The audacity! 

He turned away, his eyebrows knitting together into something hard and cold. If Keith wasn't going to thank him for his food, then why should he give the pleasure of speaking to him? Though, he didn't give him the total cold shoulder before telling him how to eat the damn thing first. "You open it and eat the insides." He dipped his tanned hands into the soapy dish-water, scrubbing his mess clean. This was ridiculous, and he was quite offended at the comment.

A soft nod was given in response as Keith opened it and ate with a fork, quiet but grateful, and before lance could even finish cleaning one of the bowls he used for the masa, Keith was already done eating. The Korean moved over, gently tapping on the others shoulder, looking like a child craving sweets. "Can I have seconds? Do you mind that?" His tone shifted before correcting his rude behavior "You should eat too Lance, I can do the dishes since you cooked, it's only fair." What an impolite way to be polite Keith, great going. He tried, and the mere fact he asked for seconds was conformation the food was good enough to withstand more than once.

The harsh expression softened on sun-kissed features, a soft exhale breezing past his soft lips. Wiping a tad of sweat off of his brow, Lance nodded. "Eat as much as you'd like, and it's my mess, not yours." Relief cooled the uproarious fires that enclosed his heart only moments prior, though now something else prodded at the corners of his mind. Why was he so worked up in the first place? Sure, he greatly disliked when someone dissed his cooking, but not that quick of a degree. Now with relief flooding his veins, he was actually glad that Keith had asked for seconds. In fact, it made a jolt of pride fill his features, creating a glow around his lovely face. Just a few more moments later and he was back to his usual self. Damn, was he really spending too much time with the depressive mullet?   
Placing down some bowls that still needed washed, his took off his apron. "I suppose you could help me out a bit." And there he retired to the table to eat some of the delicious food that he conjured up.

Keith carefully got to cleaning, doing everything in a process of scrub, sanitize and rise. He cleaned without much care, eyeing the last few tamales, one of those had his name all over it, preferably the larger one. His mouth watered at the thought of eating more of that delicious home cooking. "Shiro sucks at cooking. Back at home it's usually Curtis who makes the meals, or me. Though since curtis works late Shiro or I have to cook, and neither of us knows many recipes." He glanced over, tilting his head like a curious little puppy eager for a treat. "Can I get a recipe for it? Do you mind?"

It was like a sink overflowed, pride washing over Lance's features in quick strokes. If it wasn't cooking itself that got the Cuban excited, it was sharing it. His family was always tossing around so many recipes, and from a young kid he was taught how to help as well as partake in the preparation of each meal. He still felt nostalgia every time he gazed over at a kid helping their parents pick out fresh produce for an exquisite dinner. Popping open his little recipe book and flipping through a few rustic pages, he pointed out the shrimp tamales recipe.   
"Here, you can write it down if you want, though I can always just share it with you if you want." Perhaps he was supposed to be eating, but sharing tasteful dishes always made him so excited. He couldn't let his tamale go to waste, however, so he placed down the recipe book and dug into his flavorful masterpiece.

Keith carefully got up and grabbed his diary, deciding to jot down the recipe in a place he could find it quite easily. Though, he was unaware of how intimate it could look writing it in such a special place. He carefully put it down in a lovely blue pen that complimented Lance's eyes perfectly. As soon as the blue boy was done with his portion of food, he threw out the paper plate he was using. There wasn't exactly enough space for a stack of plates, unless they invested money into a whole new cupboard or pair of shelves. They had to improvise, keeping the cookware on the stove and countertops with as much precision they could muster. It was the least that could be done. "Eat your seconds soon, or else they'll be cold." They did have a microwave, but the Cuban always thought that reheated dishes didn't contain as much flavor as their newly cooked counterparts.

Keith obediently sat to eat his next portion, scarfing down the food with a delightful sparkle in his lavender eyes. Lance had to be the best cook he ever met, though it was presented in an odd way there was no room to argue when it came to such flavor. A flavor that made your mouth drool, and your knees weak, aroma that could get you higher than a hotboxed closet. The plate was empty almost as quickly as it was filled, Keith then cleaning off his dish as a good roommate should.

Lance glanced at Keith in silent gratitude. Having someone who was polite, albeit a bit awkward, and enjoyed your cooking was an absolute treat to him. As his eyes trailed up from his own dwindling portion towards the plate sitting in the middle of the table, the blue boy realized that perhaps there may not even be a chance at leftovers. The plate seemed to be licked clean, soon whisked away to be cleaned by a generous mullet. The dread only began to set in once the Cuban finished his food, cleaning off his own plate. It was his mess, after all. The time was upon him to study, and damn did he absolutely despise the action of studying. Always the worry about grades, the wavering hope that maybe you'll get a good enough score to not be considered a failure. Let's just say that this poor boy had more than enough anxieties and poor habits going hand-in-hand with school.

When all was said and done, both boys were seated at the coffee table Keith had brought, notes askew, and a few flashcards Keith wrote the answers and questions onto. "Competitiveness is the fastest way to get better because your drive to be better is much much stronger than your drive to study y'know? Er-... At least with me, it is. I'm bad at remembering things on my own so this can really help me out when I'm in a pinch, I'm sure you can handle it."

The taller boy composed himself, his mindset shifting into one fit for competition. Even as his mind felt the onslaught of boredom upon him, it was made much less by the additive of a contest. He always strived to be better, even the best in most cases. With the way he moved and spoke, it was obvious that he was just a bit overconfident in his abilities. Just a bit. A smirk fixed itself on his soft lips, his blue eyes shining with what could only be mischief. Leaning back, Lance took up a relaxed position, glancing over at the cards.  
"Ready whenever you are, mullet. Get ready to be pounded into the ground." 

Keith more than turned red at the statement, thinking of the rough pounding Lance could give him, the image trailing around with hearts through his mind. A yummy boy nailing him to the bed and kissing over his neck. Marks! Oh, how delicious it would be to have his skin covered in lovebites and hickies. "I don't think I'll lose... If you talk like that I'll be even more determined to kick your choice butt" --- and fuck. He messed up with that line, choice butt?? Really Keith?

A sharp eyebrow rose in question at the compliment, but not a word was spoken. Instead, tanned lips remained pursed and blue-eyes sharp. For once the outgoing boy seemed rather serious, quite at odds with the hormone-induced thought process of the creator of the study game. Still, the devilish hot smirk stayed on his lips as he laid back, seeming like a cat going to pounce.  
"You're on."  
Let the games begin.

A sigh of relief left Keith, who began shuffling cards, placing them on the table. the first card said 'egg to larvae cycle length'. "Ok, to answer, you have to reach forward and slap the top of the card. It's in the center of the table for fairness."  
"Yeah, I got it. Can we start now? I'm eager to kick your butt."  
The tanned cutie spoke over-confidently, his face portraying a cocky grin. His arms tensed up, ready to slap the top of the card as soon as Keith would allow the session to start. Refusal to lose coursed through his veins; he would not lose so easily, even if he absolutely despised studying.

Keith set up his phone. "When ten seconds hit, go for the card. Ten, twenty, thirty, so on." He spoke softly, turning on the timer with the antsy anticipation swimming through his gut with tremendous excitement. The clocked ticked on, the boy quietly wiping sweat from his hands beneath the table, lavender eyes meeting the ocean of confidence. "After the other person answers, you cannot answer the same, you say something else, flip the card over and see who got it right."

Ocean waves crashed haphazardly against a lavender sky, the water only ever hoping to reach the excellency of the clouds above, yet it would forever remain grounded no matter how hard it spat at the moon. Goosebumps rose up on lean sun-kissed arms, speckling his skin with anticipation. Soon, ten seconds ticked by, and his hand shot out to touch the card.   
Ah, but the ocean could never live up to the marvel of the sky, holding stars upon stars and galaxies within it's clutches. One may harbor life, but the other harbors the universe. One does all it can, while the other is free to do what it pleases.   
Lance was no exception, yearning to touch those lavender eyes as to bring marvel closer, only to have the greatest things float further from his grasp.

Keith's slender fingers smacked around the card first, his cheeks burning when the tan one grasped over his own. He could feel himself turn red, sinking his face into the table to hide the way he looked, mumbling the answer softly. "Twenty hours..." Of course, he was going to act weird, he wasn't exactly a normal guy after all.

Dark eyebrows rose in question, wondering as to why Keith turned shy all of a sudden. The fact that his own hand was covering the porcelain one flew over his head as the shame of losing a round deterred his cocky attitude.  
"Ugh, alright. I'll get it next time, though."  
He mumbled, his hands achingly dragging off of the colder boy's fingers. If one was not thinking straight, much like Keith, one could mistake that gesture as one of flirting.

The dark-haired male retracted his hand, taking the card with him. The next one had the fly laying eyes, with previous flies already around. However, Keith was too shaken to pay attention when the timer buzzed again, shakily slapping his hand down, but over Lance's this time. He immediately pulled back rather than leaving it on top like what his roommate had done, it was much less awkward to him to just pull back.

Lance straightened his back proudly, unaware of the mess occurring in the other boy's nerves. He only casually lifted a thin eyebrow to the odd behavior but dismissed it for the antisocial nerd just displaying his poor social skills. Besides, if the ravenette was as isolated as he said he was, he probably wasn't comfortable being around a near stranger for so long. Poor boy wouldn't know that unfamiliarity would only get worse, all because of Lance, no less.   
The boy spoke the correct answer proudly, swiping the card for himself as a symbol of pride. He could keep up, he knew he could. The ocean didn't need to be as limitless as the sky, for the ocean concealed much more below the frothy surface.

Keith felt his stomach churn, he felt sick, like he'd vomit the bile his stomach contained at any moment. "Lance... I think I'm gonna be sick..." His face paled, oh he was not coping well at all. His porcelain skin was now ghostly white with a bit of sweat across his forehead. It wasn't too uncommon, however, because after all, Keith was putting stress on himself without realizing it, and anyone with that much stress was in for a bad time. His stomach tightened, throat gagging but he pursed his lips tight. Keith launched himself from the coffee table to the bathroom, rushing in. Oh, how Lance could hear the Humiliation of vomit spewing from his lips. Of course Keith got sick in front of someone so perfect... His hands roughly clutched the sides of the porcelain bowl as he felt a warm hand run over his back. The Cuban was in no way obligated to help, but the big brother instinct was kicking in. The number of times he'd held back Veronica's hair from her goofing around with alcohol was similar to this. Soft long fingers grazed his neck and showed Keith Lance wasn't going to leave. Yes... A strong sexy Cuban to help with upchucking dinner, what a fucking fantasy.

Long fingers gently splayed across the silly mullet, pulling back the hair as the contents of his hard work were spewed into a toilet. Meanwhile, his other hand went to rubbing Keith's back, coaxing the rest of the spasm out of the shy boy. There went his food, and no doubt Keith would need something to settle him afterward. A glass of water would be ideal, once the vomiting would stop. Deep lines of a frown were etched into the beautiful face, his features tight in confusion and worry. They were fine just a minute ago, practicing and going through the cards... Was Keith sick? Was it the food? Certainly the Cuban was not feeling insecure, no he was not narcissistic enough for that, but he did certainly worry. It was the instinct that kicked in, urging him to care for the boy in whatever way he could. All thanks to his large family for that, especially when it came to having smaller siblings.   
"There, Keith, let it all out.."  
It was a soothing phrase spoken in a calming tongue, sort of when the ocean calms right after a roaring storm. His fingers never let up, making sure the red boy was done before caressing to a stop.

Oh, how those words were bittersweet, leaving Keith to wipe his mouth, humiliated and empty. The bare wasteland of a stomach made him feel all the more awful. "Sorry... I'm sorry, it happens.." he mumbled out, slamming the lever to flush away the bile. "I'm sorry, I wasted the food, I'm so sorry..." Apologizing for things this much didn't feel normal, but it was all he could do to prevent himself from crying. He just barfed up the delicious food he asked for, and his crush had to watch! This was definitely going down in the diary as his worst experience ever.

Blue eyes slanted in pity, sighing as he shook his head and went to the sink. Grabbing a washcloth from a little pristine pile in the corner, he wet it with cold water and went back to the mullet. With gentle strokes of the damp cloth, Lance wiped off the ghostly pale face, his own features never giving up the mask of concern.   
"You don't have to apologize so much, mullet. Though that was perfectly good food wasted."  
His eyes flickered to the toilet, which would definitely need to be disinfected just for sanitary reasons. However, his face gained a slight smile, one of reassurance as he pulled the cool fabric from the flushed face.   
"I can always make more, and besides, are you okay? You should drink something- How about a cool glass of water?"

The small male could only give a meek nod, slumping back against the wall with a soft whimper. His body hurt, and he had purged like this the night before moving in. He felt malnourished and weak, pushing his hand against his face to block being seen. "I really... Just can't seem to get myself together. I had a lot of things happen but recently... I dunno, I just had an ex come up from a while back and I've been shaken up worse than ever since we spoke." His voice faltered, the mysterious person going unnamed. "I'm a hot mess, you got stuck with a total loser of a roommate. I upset you, you act like I'm annoying, and just when things start to go well I have to go and embarrass myself like this." Those gloved hands balled to fists, Keith giving a muffled scream to let out frustration. "I shouldn’t have ever applied.... I thought it'd be easy and I could just hole myself off and stay quiet but you're so chatty and I'd feel bad if I ignored you."

The blue boy was nearly a step out of the bathroom, hellbent on grabbing a cold cup of water to sooth the emo boy's throat. Any semblance of a reassuring smile pasted onto his features chiseled away, a look of slight hurt taking its place. Had he been making the other uncomfortable the entire time? Acting like Keith was annoying, when instead it was really him? His face crumpled back in, face squinting together as he bit his lip in frustration. Lance was always a man to make conversation easy and communicate. However it seemed to do the exact opposite, and the lavender eyed boy only seemed to mix everything up further. But only if the Cuban realized he was the one starting it all, from his winks to that stupid purple hairclip. Communication was shot, and it was up to each other to somehow patch it up again.   
"Be quiet, mullet. You can just tell me to shut it if you don't want any smooth talk. And besides, if it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have studied at all."  
It was a hit on his own pride, a double whammy on his image. But it was also a soft appreciation for the messy dork, expressing the tall boy's liability in studying.

Keith waved his hand. "No, I'm fine, honest. I need to get used to people or I'm never going to get better. Please... Please just put up with me a little longer." His eyes watered and fuck did he hate it, turning away to hide his pitiful expression. "I get that I'm kind of a handful, but I'll be lonely forever with only Shiro, and as much as I love him, he ends up leaving too much, I can't keep doing that, it hurts." He spoke the truth, but he was really just a ball of emotions Lance shouldn't have to put up with. He was tense, awkward, and physically incapable of handling himself at all. He just wanted Kosmo, for that fluffy mutt to nuzzle his face under his chin for comfort. "times like this Kosmo would be the one sticking by my side. I'm really sorry to be a big problem, I haven't had to really talk with people since Shiro came back, and after my dad died I still really didn't understand how to talk to people. I was a weird kid, I'm not.... normal in any sense."

"Keith.."  
The blue boy struggled with words for once. The Korean was just so isolated, maybe even a bit naïve in a certain sense. Maybe Lance was biting off more than he could chew, having a roommate that clearly did have some clutter in the upstairs department, but for some reason, he wasn't deterred. He always rose up to a challenge, and not even that... His morals forbid him to make any action against the cowering boy. He had to deal with other family members all his life, and he never once wanted to abandon them in their time of need. The fear of the ravenette being left to rot by another roommate, one much less forgiving than him, made a sour taste build up in his throat. He would never forgive himself if he left Keith alone for another college student to tear into. It felt so wrong..  
"Are any of us normal? Really, I'm not going to just leave you here to rot. C'mon."  
It was a rather nonchalant response, but who could expect differently from the tanned beauty? He turned to face the sullen male, walking right up until he was towering over the tiny figure. Offering his hand, he gave a tiny smile.  
"You aren't that bad. Now let's get you some water, you thirsty emo."

Red covered those pale cheeks, but lance was far more wrong than he could have ever known. It's not everyday your roommate is half alien. Humans weren't aware of aliens, and Keith? Well, he just knew his body wasn't normal. He purred like a pet cat, his eyes were an unatural saturated purple, and he medically had an extra heart and unidentified organs. He took that hand, squeezing tight before pulling himself up. Lance could feel the shaking, how weak the poor boy was, how he needed to relax and eat just to restore energy.

The tanned hand dragged Keith closer, the fear of him falling over because of shaky legs much stronger than his pride. Slightly carrying him, the Cuban brought the boy out into the cool dorm room, much better than that stuffy bathroom that definitely didn't smell like puke now. Making sure the Korean was sat comfortably on the couch, the blue boy went ahead and grabbed a cup of cool water back for the other's parched throat.   
"Here, drink up."

Keith drank down, a bit running down his chin but he felt horrible. It had been a while since someone was so nice. His right fist balled up, thumb rubbing over his index finger to soothe himself. That was a key action of self-comfort that many socially inept people can get into a habit of, their mind trying to tell the body it's okay. His gorgeous lavender eyes moved to lance, long eyelashes casting a shadow on those rosy cheeks. "Lance... Thanks, I mean it. I'll make it up to you, I'm really sorry for wasting your food. It was so good too..." That gaze averted again, those black pupils more slits than they were normal eyes but it was hard to see without being so close. "I know I'm not ideal, but I try really hard... I’ll make it up to you."

It felt like an arrow speared his heart, mounting it on the wall behind them. The sheer force of it nearly made him double over, yet to the normal eye, he simply lost his breath. Had Keith ever been so... beautiful? The light in the room wasn't too bright, noticeably dimmer due to the sun that blinked out of sight quicker due to the change of seasons. However, it still managed to cast a sort of drowsy halo around the anxious male. Words spewed from those heavenly lips nearly missed him, flying over the Cuban's head as he ogled away at the pretty boy. His bisexual heart was beating rather quickly, and he made quick work to pull himself together. For his pride, that is.   
"I can just make more later, mullet. The only thing you have to do is keep it down."  
Lance teased, a very faint blush painting those lovely tan cheeks. He wasn't used to compliments, either they felt forced or they didn't exist at all. To have this mess of a man compliment on him something genuinely.. it was a whole other feeling.

Keith was pure red, having to pull away. He hated the staring, being ogled at so much made him feel like he had to puke again. "i-if I have vomit still on my face just say so, you're looking at me like you just seen a demon...." Keith waved his hand and pushed through "Listen, I know you enjoy teasing a lot but I don't like a lot of staring, I can't deal with it. Please just wait until I can have Kosmo back. I'll feel a lot safer with him around me..." Those gloves hands ran through black hair as he grabbed the clip, readjusting it to hold his hair better. "You're a great guy, and I appreciate what you're doing, I just.... Really don't like the way your looking at me. If you have evil plans to prank me I won't find them funny. I swear if you are anything like that goofball Adam, I'm going to blow my brains out. I'm sick of having slapstick gags"

Ocean eyes quickly looked away, the Cuban's face now burning in embarrassment. Of course, the one time he decided to soak in another's looks he would be chastised and pushed away. Truly, the taller boy didn't care if people saw him as gay or queer. He was who he was, and he wasn't afraid to flaunt that fact on many occasions. Especially in his flirting endeavors, shown earlier by the barista. But this.. well, being seen as a creep was one thing, and another was having it happen in a trivial moment. Eyes searched the room frantically as his mouth fell dry, savoring for the words to excuse his erratic behavior.  
"Dumb mullet-head... You look sick. We should cut this study session off and have you rest."  
It was weak, but it had its reasoning behind it. It was much better than spurting out how beautiful the Korean appeared in such short notice.

That soft voice with sharp tones was surprisingly calming, Keith giving a nod. "Yeah... Can you take the top bunk? I don't think I can climb it right now. If not I can sleep on the couch, I don't mind it, I just don't think I can get up there." He pulled off his gloves and jacket, then his shirt. "I'm just gonna take a hot shower, relax, cool off... Again, I'm really really sorry I did that, I'm more than mortified. I just feel like an idiot for putting pressure on myself for someone so nice. You just seemed scary... I kept messing up with you, I really didn't want to make another misstep but I got nervous when we were studying with the awkward hand touching. The only person I really hug is shiro, and aside from that Kosmo, but he doesn’t count because anyone would hug a fluffy dog."  
He spoke with emotion but to be fair, his bare chest with carved, lean muscle was distracting. It was odd how girls didn't ogle him, yet with the way he dressed, he could be considered flamboyant. I mean... Skinny jeans, tight shirts, earrings, nervous with a guy touching his hand, black nails? This kid was practically radiating gay.

Swift eyes glanced at the lean chest before flashing distastefully at the articles of clothing thrown so haphazardly to the floor. Keith didn't seem to be the messy type, though one didn't know with a kid who spends most of his days locked up in his room. He stared down at the pile of fabric to avoid the alluring shape of the other's frame. In no way was Keith small. He was skinny, sure, and radiated gay twink energy, but that didn't mean he had no muscle to him. With what the emo boy did have, was all sculpted into a slight muscle. Lance had to stop himself from staring again, instead, turning away to look at the top bunk. He would have to sleep there, surrounded by someone else's scent. He wouldn't complain, not after seeing such a heavenly sight.   
"Pff, scary? You're the scary one here, Keith."  
It wasn't exactly a lie, but the tall boy was a bit apprehensive with meeting the darker roommate. Hell, he was even jumpscared when they first met! Maybe the other was scared of scared of talking in general, but the Cuban was cautious of the man himself.   
"Go take a shower before you stink up my sheets."  
His focus could only be trained on that porcelain body for so long, his face burning as they flickered away just as quick as they came. Ushering Keith out of his bed and into the bathroom, he was finally able to slump into the couch, exhaustion hitting his body. This was so much more than he bargained for, but could he complain..?

Keith closed the door with a soft look of sadness that lance couldn't unsee. Keith was upset with those words. Was he scary? Did he stink? Maybe it was a bad idea to switch bunks, his heart aching in regret. Why was this so hard? He had to be roomed with a polar opposite! Regardless of emotion. He got in the shower, trying to melt away the angst in his bloodstream. It was thirty minutes before he came out in only a towel. The fabric hung loosely over his hips as he set his dirty clothes in the hamper. Oh, how delicious that sight was. A sexy Korean boy, nearly naked, walking through Lance's room! Mysterious, closed off, and touch starved it was a perfect classic set up for a tacky romance novel.

The beautiful Cuban was sprawled out over the soft blankets of the top bunk, the one belonging to that sexy hunk of anxiety. Clad in blue pajama pants that accentuated his ass perfectly and a grey t-shirt that was carved out around his chest, he was scrolling lazily through social media. He barely even realized the other had returned until the click of the bathroom door interrupted his concentration. Well, if you can be focused on dumb cat videos, that is. His gaze was rather fuzzy, growing tired from the onslaught of repressed emotions and depression. Blinking to become adjusted to the light, his eyes focused on the figure, the gears slowly turning as he realised what he was seeing. Was Keith really this isolated to not know that he could have changed in the bathroom? Not that Lance cared, but for someone who threw up over accidental pokes he would have expected differently. Face flaming, he let his eyes quickly check out the sexy Korean in front of him, admiring his body before averting his eyes and forcing a grumble.  
"Naked, much?"

Keith frowned again. "I'm sorry, you shoved me in before I could get my clothes." His voice cracked, apologies were all that ever left his lips at this point. He carefully got clothes together, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, I get that I'm the scary one but cut me some slack, I can't do everything. I'll change in the bathroom"  
That stung, it fucking burned that he had acknowledged Lance's teasing comment as a reality. He was overly literal, and just so exhausted, locking himself in the restroom before a hairdryer clicked in. When he came back out, there were just baggy clothes dangling off of him. He had a Metallica shirt on, and Batman pajama pants. His hair was an adorably fluffy mess that was finger combed for volume. That hair clip was carelessly left on the edge of the counter which showed the novelty had worn off thanks to Lance's words. For some odd reason the Cuban was being so judgemental, more than ever, and Keith, poor, sweet, depressive little Keith was the brunt of teasing he didn't understand.

"Sorry..?"  
The tanned face twisted into nothing short of confusion. Did he do something wrong? Maybe joking at such an emotional moment was too much- the Korean certainly couldn't handle himself when it came to understanding another person, at least when it got complicated. Then again, the tall male couldn't really say he could understand the mullet-head right now either. Frowning, Lance set down his phone on a bedside table before climbing up to the top bunk. He was going to stay true to his word, or lack thereof, and let the other sleep in his bunk. It was the least he could do for whatever stupid thing spewed out of his mouth. Gesturing to the bottom bunk, he made sure his baffling roommate was comfortable. That was the only reason why the outgoing man forced the other into the bathroom so quickly. Keith filled the atmosphere with tension, and what was tension to a hot bath? 

He gave a soft sigh, reaching a soft hand up. For a moment lance could've assumed it was an offer for them to sleep together but the thrill died when Keith spoke. "Can you pass me the purple body pillow? I don't like to sleep without it." Ah, come to think of it lance hadn't noticed it. The pillow that showed Keith was clearly a lonely sleeper that needed the comfort of holding something. It had someone's shirt on it, and smelt like cheap cologne. That was a boy’s shirt... A boy's scent. Keith could've possibly had a boyfriend, but he made it quite clear earlier he was single.   
Of course, that didn't stop the curiosity. The shirt didn't even look like Keith's, it was bright and didn't fit the aesthetic of clothes he had. It was a bit bigger smaller than Lance's usual clothes, and the tacky scent was sickening, so why was this hot head so keen on smelling it before bed?

Lance wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell, grateful that it wouldn't be on the bed any longer. The scent of overpowering yet it didn't seem to stick to anything else but that dreaded t-shirt. It wasn't even relaxing but felt like a kick to the sinuses. Handing the pillow down, avoiding the shirt taut around it, he wiped his hands as to get rid of the smell, even bringing his own lotioned ones to his nose to clear up the burning sensation in his head. Whoever bought that cologne needed some help, and some much better taste in scents.   
"Why does it.. smell, like that?"  
It wasn't emphasized to be rude, and the blue boy made sure to put it that way. Instead, it was rather curious, even in a kind of cute way. But another question burned in his gut, making it twist like the other's hours before. 'Whose shirt was that?' Why should he care, or even be jealous, by that matter? Looks only made up for some of his attractive attributes, but nothing more. Clearly they were polar opposites, and that question was to never leave his mouth, even as his eyes screamed it by the holes they were burning in the overly bright fabric.

Keith paused, like a feral cat ready to run from a human trying to catch it. "It's uh... My brothers." Oh, he lied right through his fucking teeth and it was so obvious too. Clearly he was embarrassed or scared to say why, just shaking his head. "I'm just lonely! So uh, y'know he's old and has bad taste in everything so his cologne is sharp. I just like it cause it smells like him. I miss him." Mhm, that last part was more honest than a drunk mother in a novella. Whoever Keith was missing, it was enough to put up with that stench. With the picture of Shiro in Keith's car it was clear that large man wasn’t the owner of that small shirt, but then again, why would Keith tell lance he wasn't straight or that he was heart broken? Lance had been harsh since he arrived, clearly, he was protecting himself from any criticism that those soft lips could produce.

The Cuban faltered, his bright demeanor dimming. Out of all the experiences, the boy knew he would collect, this was not one of them. Hell, he never thought he'd see the day someone wouldn't trust him. His charisma was maxed out, his aura warm and easily to relax by. Every conversation was as smooth as silky waters, gliding across the shore. The male practically screamed outgoing and charismatic, and while not even liked him, almost all trusted him.  
Bile slowly rose in his throat, coating his tongue in a bitter taste. Now he knew what the Korean felt all this time, the crash of waves hard against the feeble walls of his stomach. However, despite the pain that so stubbornly stabbed at his sides, he didn't let himself feel sad over the bipolar man. Not then, while they were staring right at each other. But the beautiful boy was not one to hide his emotions, either. At least not all of them.   
"Oh, is that so?"  
It was deadpan, catching the mouse in the lead-covered trap. It was all he had to not let his voice crack under the hurt that baffled him so. Why should he feel bad for a man that clearly had no care for him? That insulted him in the beginning and lied so shamelessly?

Keith gave a nod, looking more worried than embarrassed. "Yeah. No shame in missing someone y'know. I spent so long with him it's hard to not want him around." He placed the pillow on the bed, then grabbed onto his diary. A blue pen used to right a sad entry about how upsetting the card catastrophe was earlier, then using the deep blue pen to talk about lance. Lance was a solid topic on his own and got his own color. Keith wrote how he felt a little intimidated, and how he was scared to tell anyone he was gay after James. Ah yes, the hateful boyfriend, the boy who dated him just to ridicule him out of envy but love-drunk Keith wasn't the wiser until the violent break up that ended in a fist fight when he insulted his lack of parents. He also then took a grey pen and wrote about how he missed his dad and mother, the lonely empty feeling his chopped off to his codependent nature. He needed people to be calm, and a whole other paragraph was written before he fucked it nearly in his drawer. Though the atmosphere was thick, he took a moment to appreciate the other's help earlier. Lance was kind, but always rude, just like James, he wouldn't be getting involved in that again. "Sleep well okay? Do you want any of your pillows or blankets or are you good for the night?" The lavender sky was shining over the Cuban on his gorgeous shortline, so warm yet so distant. Keith was cautious but clearly not against him.

Thoughts only continued to pound in Lance's head, the waters only coming still when that lovely gaze met his.  
"I'm fine. G'night, mullet."   
Shifting wearily on the bed, his face plopping down onto that awfully soft pillow, sinking deep into it. Sharp scents hit him, but they soothed his burning senses from that horrible cologne. It smelled like fire, or better yet, a bonfire. Soothing to the soul and relaxing to the brain. No doubt it worked on the Cuban, his whirling rivers of thought coming to small trickles. Maybe he'd feel better tomorrow, after sleeping? But still, that feeling laid heavy in his chest, taking all the energy it could not to sigh sorrowfully.   
Shifting away from those eyes, he turned around in the bed, exposing his backside. Truly, just as breathtaking as the rest of the tanned boy.

Keith got into the bed and went to sleep. His was spooned against the body pillow and tucked under Lance's lovely sheets. He was calm and slept well, Lance's warm scent was far more desirable than Jame's but he couldn't stop himself from squeezing on his pillow. He wanted to hold someone, anyone that would stay the night. Eventually, morning came and the young Korean was just once again enjoying his late morning sleep. He was so cute in Lance's sheets, a bit of pride even able to fill the other's chest as the thought of bagging him passed through his mind


End file.
